


I like You Better High

by seven2seventy



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Biphobia, Bipolar Disorder, Catholic School, Coming Out, Drug Addiction, Fluff, High School, Homophobia, M/M, Not much tho, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Substance Abuse, i guess, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:15:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 55,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29042970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seven2seventy/pseuds/seven2seventy
Summary: Mikey didn't know what to think about Pete Wentz, and quite honestly, he didn't have time to care. His life was busy enough with his best friend leaving, his brother's perpetual downward spiral, and an identity crisis that he didn't care to handle with anything other than substantial amounts of weed. He didn't need to add Pete's attention seeking stunts to the list. But he was kind of hard to ignore.
Relationships: Mikey Way/Pete Wentz
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	1. I Think You're Like Me

**Author's Note:**

> gonna dump the first 3 chapters now have it at

1996

“Do you think anyone will notice?” Frank asked.

“Yes,” Mikey said, sitting against a stall door behind Frank and watching as his friend leaned over the bathroom sink to get a good look at himself in the mirror.

“Mikey,” Frank whined, turning to face his friend, “My mom said she’ll send me back to Saint Thomas's if I keep getting into fights!” He gestured emphatically at the nasty black eye he was sporting, pouting like a little kid. 

“Stop trying pick-pocket big dudes then.”

Frank had a habit of pissing off people with massive advantages size-wise. Which wasn’t hard. The kid was barely tall enough to ride a rollercoaster, but that didn’t stop him from seeking out pointless losing battles. And once again, Frank had pissed off some senior who Mikey was pretty sure was on the football team. Sure, Frank was scrappy enough, but that was just plain dumb. 

“Everyone’s a big dude to me!”

“Yeah,” Mikey agreed.

“Shit,” Frank said, “Maybe I can avoid her till it heals?” He looked back in the mirror, pulling on the skin around his eye as if it would make the big bruise go away.

“You can’t avoid your mom for two weeks dude,” Mikey said.

“I guess not.” Frank ran a hand through his weird little mohawk. The sides were too long and the top and back were too short. You could barely tell it was a mohawk at all. And it was always messy from Frank running his hand through it.

“Come over after school. I’ll borrow some of Gee’s makeup,” Mikey offered. His brother wouldn’t mind. His brother might not even notice if he didn’t tell him. Gerard was always a bit unorganized.

“Thanks,” Frank said.

The two left the boys’ bathroom and headed down the halls to the cafeteria. They had missed half of lunch already, hiding out from the football team while Frank fussed over his eye. Usually he didn’t bother covering any injuries up, prefering to proudly display them so that everyone knew Frank Iero was tough. But the last time he came home after a fight with a bruised rib and big cuts all over his face, his mother had finally reached the end of her rope. One more incident and it was back to the all boys Catholic school for him.

“I think I should carry foundation or whatever with me all the time. Stay one step ahead,” Frank said to Mikey as they weaved through the cramped hall. 

“I think you’ll be beat up more if anyone finds out you carry makeup with you.”

“A knife then,” Frank said.

“Or,” Mikey replied, “Stop pissing people off.”

Frank looked at him like Mikey was stupid for even suggesting it.

“Yeah, nevermind,” he said.

They walked through the doors to the packed cafeteria and headed to their table in the back left corner by the trash cans. Mikey supposed eating by the trash cans was ‘unappealing’ to most people, but it was kind of ideal for him. Mostly because it was the farthest table from both the door and asshole athletes, which meant he was always the last to leave for class and had an entire block to avoid saving Frank from one more confrontation. 

“I’d just like to come out on top for once,” Frank groaned, “It’s not fair. You know how cool I’d be if I took down one of those meatheads?”

“Maybe you could even get a girl to pay attention to you,” Mikey laughed.

Frank’s eyes lit up. “Hey, yeah! Mikey, will you fight me? For the girls?”

“No,” Mikey said, sitting at the table. He sat in his usual spot beside Gabe, with Frank on his other side. He never talked to anyone else at the table because really, he didn’t know the other guys.

“Who’s Mikey fighting?” Gabe asked, turning from one of his friends-Mikey couldn’t be fucked to remember his name-to pester the late comers. Looking at Frank, he grinned and asked, with an amused tone in his voice, “Shit Frankie, what happened to your face?”

“He tried stealing someone’s wallet and got beat up again,” Mikey answered.

“I was only hit once,” Frank said.

“Yeah, then he ran,” Mikey said.

“Sorry I missed it. Who was it this time?”

Frank scanned the cafeteria, looking for his attacker. He was sitting at a table with all his big oaf friends, with a cheerleader on his lap. Frank pointed at him. “That guy.”

Gabe peered over at where Frank was pointing.“Fuck dude, you fought Marapesse? Good for you Frankie!” He said, because Gabe knew just about fucking everyone.

“Well I didn’t win,” Frank said, running his hand through his hair again.

Gabe laughed, “Did you get his wallet?” His leg was bouncing. It always bounced. It was starting to shake the table.

Frank smiled devilishly, pulling out the wallet in question from his pants pocket. Gabe high-fived him. Mikey shook his head, pretending he didn’t find it funny. He knew he shouldn’t feed into Frank’s dangerously stupid habits. But really, the asshole at least deserved to lose a few bucks for that shit, beating on someone a third his size.

The three boys continued on talking. Gabe was drooling over a girl from his chemistry class, then Mikey boasted about the Mellon Collie vinyl he had been saving up for and finally bought, then back to Gabe’s chemistry girl. Then whether or not they thought they had failed their history quiz. Then Gabe’s dreaded family get-together that Sunday. Then Frank mentioned he had joints in his backpack.

“Skip fifth period,” Frank suggested.

“For sure,” Gabe agreed, “I didn’t feel like going to trig anyway.”

“Do you ever?” Frank asked.

“No.”

“Have you actually gone to class yet? Eventually you’re gonna get caught,” Mikey said.

“Not like you go to your classes either, man,” Gabe said.

“More than you.”  
“Are you in or not, you little truant?” Gabe said.

“Yeah, fuck it.”

The bell rang and the other kids around the table started packing their things, getting ready to make their way to class as slowly as possible. Frank jumped up and sprinted off to his locker for his bag while Mikey and Gabe stood up and looked busy. As they loitered, Mikey watched the mass of students filter out. They weren’t the only ones milling about, plenty of other kids were taking their sweet time to leave, just for that extra few minutes of downtime before class. Mikey saw Pete Wentz walking up to the trash cans by their table. He slowly took each item of his tray one at a time and threw them in the cans. Milk carton, paper plate, fork, spoon, napkin. Which must have been his weird way of dawdling. He was always a bit weird. Sometimes it was funny though. He set his tray at the kitchen window, and walked off. As he passed by Mikey and Gabe, he nodded at Mikey and gave a quick ‘hey’, before returning to his friends.

Frank appeared back by Mikey’s side just then.

“You know him?” Frank asked him.

“Yeah,” Mikey said, “That’s Pete.”

“I know. I just didn’t know you knew him,” Frank said.

Mikey shrugged. “Not really.” They had hung out a few times, mostly smoking under the bleachers. They went bowling once. But they weren’t friends.

“So,” Gabe said, clapping Frank on the shoulders, “You got it Frankie?”

Frank raised his bag up grinning.

“Then let’s get going,” Gabe said, leading his friends out of the cafeteria. They were last ones to leave. Pete and his friends were gone already.

“So how do you know Pete?” Frank asked Mikey as he lit the joint. He was sitting on the grass beneath the bleachers. Mikey was leaned up against a metal bar, and Gabe sat on top of it. Frank took a hit, holding it for a bit before breathing out a big cloud of smoke. Gabe made grabby hands at him, and Frank passed it.

Frank liked to fixate on weird things people said in passing sometimes. They were never interesting or important things. Mikey thought because he was clingy and bothered by random things that made him feel out of the loop. Clearly his brief exchange with Pete put Frank out of the loop.

“He smoked me out a few times,” Mikey said.

“Huh. I just didn’t really think you’d be friends with someone like him,” Frank said. 

Gabe passed Mikey the joint (after taking, like, five hits. asshole) and said, “Why not? Pete’s cool.”

“We aren’t friends anyway. He just smoked me out,” Mikey added, “But yeah, he’s alright.”

“He’s kind of a lot though,” Frank said.

“And I’m not?” Gabe said, feigning hurt, “Frankie, what d'ya have against a man with a colorful personality?”

Mikey took a long drag. He held the joint out to Frank, but he didn’t notice, so he took another hit.

“I’m not saying there’s something wrong with it. He just seems like he’s trying too hard to be a lot,” Frank explained.

“Ya think so?” Mikey asked. Now that Frank was paying attention, he passed him the joint.

“I dunno. He’s always, like, gotta be in the middle of everything,” Frank said.

“So what?” Mikey said. He wasn’t particularly bent on defending Pete. Actually, Frank was probably right. Pete did kinda try hard. He was always trying to pull attention towards himself. He talked extensively about wild things that half the time probably weren’t even true, like how he had claimed to have played ‘roof tag’ with a group of college kids he had met. At parties he would always get wicked drunk, which always led to him either breaking something, stealing something, or on a few occasions, stripping. So yeah, Pete was pretty loud, attention seeking, and destructive. But he was an alright guy and Mikey felt like being difficult.

“I just think-”

“Why are we still talking about this,” Gabe groaned, “I’m bored.”

“Shut up,” Frank said, breathing in more smoke. Gabe made grabby hands again, but Frank shook his head. “My weed. Gotta be nice to me.”

“I’ll give you another black eye, how ‘bout that?” Gabe retorted, sticking out his long ass leg and poking Frank with his shoe.

“Yeah, you’re cut off.”

Frank passed the joint to Mikey, who took a hit, and gave it back to Frank.

“Ah, c’mon, Mikey! Don’t take his side!” Gabe whined.

“His weed,” Mikey said.

“My weed,” Frank repeated.

“Please, Frankie, I’m sorry. We can keep talking about Pete all you want,” He whimpered.

Frank rolled his eyes, but handed Gabe the joint.

After school, Mikey and Frank walked to the Way household. It wasn’t too far from the school, but it was early November and getting a bit chilly out. The kind of chilly where you weren’t sure what weather to dress for yet, so everyday it's hot you dress for cold, and everytime it's cold you dress for hot. Meaning neither boy had worn a jacket that day. Frank was a really small guy, wind went right through him, and Mikey wasn’t much better. He was taller than Frank, but he was scrawny. By the time the two of them got to Mikey’s house they were shivering. The house wasn’t much warmer. His mom hadn’t turned the heat on yet.

“C’mon,” Mikey said, gesturing to the basement.

The two boys went down the stairs and into the dirty little pit down there that Gerard called his bedroom.

There were clothes strewn about and crumpled up papers littering the floor. The ashtray on Gerard’s desk was overflowing with cigarette butts. Mikey pocketed a few from a pack that had been left out. 

Frank sat down on Gerard’s bed, watching as Mikey rifled around his brother’s drawers to find his makeup.

“God this place is a mess,” he muttered. His own room was a bit cluttered, but at least he could navigate through the junk. Gerard’s was like a landfill.

After a while, he found a bottle of foundation.

“Here we go!”

He walked over to Frank with the bottle, and poured a bit on his finger. Then, he smeared it over Frank’s bruised eye.

“Ow!” Frank yelped, “Fucking careful!”  
“Hold still, you’re gonna fuck this up.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Frank asked.

“Sure,” Mikey lied. 

He didn’t know the first thing about makeup. But really how hard could it be? He continued fingerpainting Frank’s face with the foundation. He did his best to blend it into his skin but it ended up funny. He frowned, rubbing it in more. It was no use. 

“This shit is like, white,” Mikey said.

“What?” Frank replied.

“It doesn’t match your skin, you look like you tanned with an eyepatch on.”

“Fuck,” Frank groaned.

“I could try my mom’s.”

“She’s pale too,” Frank said, “Fuck you and your pale ass family.”

“Sorry man,” Mikey said.

“Well, this is it for me. I’m doomed,” Frank said, flopping back onto Gerard’s bed.

Mikey took off his wire frame glasses and faked cleaning them. It was something he just did to look busy when he didn’t really know what to say. 

“Sleep over tonight, we’ll figure something out,” Mikey told him after a minute.

Frank agreed. They went up to the kitchen so Frank could call his mom. She was usually pretty strict, but she seemed to like Mikey alright cause she always let Frank sleepover. As long as it wasn’t a school night at least. He twisted the phone chord as they talked, nervous like his mom would see the black eye through the phone. When he put down the phone, he gave Mikey a thumbs up.

They went up to Mikey’s room. Mikey put on his Mellon Collie vinyl. His mother was working and Gerard was off doing whatever he did, so they were free to be as loud as they wanted. They mostly talked, Frank swerving in Mikey’s desk chair and Mikey laying up against the headboard of his bed. There wasn’t much else to do. Frank told Mikey he was going to see a show with Ray a few towns over Saturday night. He asked if Mikey wanted to come. Mikey didn’t know the band and he didn’t really have the energy just then to commit to anything. He felt that wiped out that you felt only on a Friday afternoon, where really you’ve been run into the ground all week but never had the time to notice till you dropped. Which was shitty cause he loved going to shows, and he wanted to see Ray. They hadn’t been able to hang out as much since Ray went off to college. He was still local and all, just busy. Mikey said he’d think about it.

“Lame,” Frank said.

Then they talked about some shitty horror movie Mikey had watched with Gerard. He had "rented" (stole) it from Blockbuster. Feeders or something. It had come out a few months ago, and Frank had never heard of it. It was pure dog shit, which meant that Frank had to see it.

Mikey ran back down to Gerard’s ‘room’ and dug the VHS out from under a pile of shirts. He found Frank waiting on the living room sofa when he emerged. Popping the movie into the player, he and Frank settled in. Mikey rested his legs on the coffee table, sprawled out, while Frank curled up into himself.

The whole time the movie played, Frank was a giggling wreck. Pure dog shit. It was fun though. In the dim light of the TV, Frank’s weird pale eye sort of glowed, which was interesting.

A little while after the movie had ended, Gerard came home, and filled the whole room with the scent of smoke. Mikey thought idly that Gerard might have actually washed his hair that day. The normally stringy black mess on his head was looking like a normal person’s hair.

“Hey Mikey. Frank.”

“Hey Gee,” They both greeted.

Gerard was about to head down to his room, when he looked back at Frank.

“What’s up with your eye?” He asked, pushing some hair out of his eyes a bit, brows furrowed.

“We tried to use your foundation to cover up my black eye,” Frank said, “But Mikey doesn’t know shit about makeup.”

“Another black eye?” Gerard said. He had known Frank almost as long as Mikey had-and that was a long time. He wasn’t surprised anymore whenever Frank flaunted a new bruise or cut.

“Tried robbing a football player,” Mikey said. He felt like he had said that a lot that day.

“I got his wallet,” Frank said happily.

“Nice,” Gerard said, “You can buy your own foundation with that. One that actually matches your skin tone. And isn’t mine.”

With that, Gerard slipped down into the basement.

Mikey and Frank stayed up a while longer, listening to Mikey’s records. Mikey’s mom had come home at some point, greeting Frank before going off to sleep. The boys themselves fell asleep around three, while Strangeways, Here We Come played in the background. Mikey woke up at some point after the last song was over and put the disk back, before falling asleep again.

When they woke up it was almost noon. Mikey’s mom made them breakfast of French toast. After, Gerard drove them to the general store on Washington Street in his shitty little car that Mikey swore would fall apart any day now. He helped Frank find a foundation that matched his skin tone. He was good with colors. Artist shit or something, Mikey didn’t know. He had no eye for that sort of stuff. Frank went up to the register with his new foundation and an eyeliner pencil stuffed in his back pocket. Gerard showed him how to do his foundation nice enough that you wouldn't notice any of the bruising, at least from a decent distance and dropped Frank at his house. Mikey slept through the rest of the weekend.

Monday morning was grey and everyone was moving like they were walking through molasses. Frank’s locker was right by the main entrance, so when Mikey walked inside, the first thing he saw was Frank at his locker, black eye completely invisible. Meaning his mother must not have noticed the bruise. He walked up next to Frank.

“How was the show?”

“Eh, kinda lame,” Frank shrugged. “It was nice hangin with Ray though. You shoulda been there.”  
“Next time,” Mikey said.

“Yeah.”

They walked down the hall to Gabe’s locker. It was right outside the band room, so it was always super noisy around there. Gabe was facing his locker, dumping out the contents of his bag.

“Notice anything different, Gabe?” Frank asked.

“Haircut?” Gabe said without looking up.

“No,” Frank said.

Still focused on getting everything out of his backpack, Gabe said, “Did you have another one of your ‘growth spurts’?” Frank sometimes claimed he was going to have a growth spurt in the near future. He never did. Although, even if Frank did have one, Gabe probably wouldn’t even notice. When you’re standing 6’4’, everyone is short to you.

“No! Turn around!”

Gabe peered over his shoulder. “Oh hey, got your eye all fixed up.”

“Yep,” Frank said proudly, “No St. Thomas's.”

The bell rang, and the boys all went off towards their own classes. Frank and Gabe both had English. Frank was in senior English class with Gabe, despite being both a Junior and one of the stupidest people Mikey knew, as he was also effortlessly good in the classroom. They left together, while Mikey had physics on the other side of the school. As he made his way through the clusters of students, someone hopped out in front of him.

“Mikeyway, what’s up,” Pete said grinning.

“Not much,” Mikey said, giving Pete a small smile back.

“You free right now?”

“Not really. Sorry, I have to get to class,” Mikey said, trying to keep walking. Pete followed after him. Pete was a nice guy for the most part, at least he was the few times he hung out, but when he wasn’t high he was a little too hyper for Mikey.

“Hey, hey,” Pete pushed, putting a hand on Mikey’s arm, “Do you really _need_ to go to class?”

He didn’t. At least, he didn’t _want_ to go to class. He figured he could humor Pete. 

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Wake and bake?”

“It’s a little late for a wake and bake, dude,” Mikey said. It was only eight, but a wake and bake kind of needed to be done right when you wake. It wasn’t a wake and go out, get some stuff done, have a bite to eat, and bake.

“Ok then just a bake?” Pete offered.

Mikey pretended to mull it over, but he already knew he’d say yes.

“Yeah, okay,” Mikey agreed. He thought smoking this early might have been a bit troubling. Like drinking before five or something. But it wasn’t like he did it often. It wasn’t a habit or anything. Plus, he didn’t really care.

The two boys walked out through the door by the gym, the one that no one was ever around to yell at the students playing hookie, and into the cool autumn air. Mikey was wearing a coat that day, as well as a beanie, both of which he had stopped by his locker to get. He was starting to catch up with the weather. Pete was wearing a hoodie, which couldn’t have been very warm, but he didn’t seem bothered. 

“Bleachers?” Mikey asked. It was usually where they went when they wanted to light up. Not that it happened very often. Generally they stuck to their own groups. But, like Frank said, Pete was a bit of an attention whore, and Mikey was a sucker for good (and free) weed, so they got along well enough to meet up every once in a while.

“Nah. C’mon,” He said, and began walking towards the parking lot. Mikey followed him through the lines of shitty cars, which were the only ones most high school students could afford, until reached Pete’s shitty car. It was some tiny Honda, like Gerard’s. It wasn’t as bad as Gerard’s at least. He didn’t have his mirrors duck taped on. Mikey got on the passenger’s side, and Pete slipped into the driver’s seat. There were a lot of wrappers littering the car. The back was filled with old soda cans, and the cup holders just contained random junk. Pens and packs of gum and rocks. Why Pete would keep rocks in his car was beyond Mikey.

“Sorry ‘bout the mess,” He said, frowning a bit. He had a kinda big mouth, Mikey thought.

“I like a good mess,” Mikey said.

Pete chuckled, “Well then this is perfect.”

“So, are we gonna smoke?” Mikey asked.

“Hold on,” Pete said, fishing in his pockets for something. His jeans were tight so it took a while, but eventually he pulled out his keys. He started up the car. “I wanna get some food first. You feelin McDonalds?”

“I guess,” Mikey said.

“Sweet.”

They drove for a bit, Pete was talking Mikey’s ear off about who the fuck knows. Mikey tried to add to the conversation, but it was hard to keep up with Pete. He wished he was high. He liked Pete, really. But Frank was right. He could be a lot. When they were high he really calmed down. Much more Mikey’s speed.

“I was really worried I’d have to go by myself,” Pete laughed at one point, “All my friends were like ‘we have class!’ like they care about their futures or something.”

“You think I don’t care about my future then?” Mikey said.

“Nah, I think you’re like me.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just means what it means Mikeyway,” He stated simply. Mikey knew that that was all he would get out of him.

“But anyway, I’m glad you said yes. Even though I kinda lured you in with weed,” Pete went on.

“Lured me?” Mikey asked, laughing a bit.

“I mean, I’m totally down to smoke with you. But yeah, this was mostly about McDonald’s.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me to come to McDonald’s?”

“I dunno, though you would’ve said no,” Pete said, “Then I’d be alone.”

“You can’t go to McDonald’s by yourself?”

“Nah. I don’t like being on my own so much,” Pete said, “But hey, we’re havin fun anyway, right?”

They pulled into the drive thru and a voice came out of the little speaker saying that whole _Welcome to McDonalds…_ line.

“I’ll get a Big Mac, a medium chocolate shake, and a medium fry. And uh…” he turned to Mikey, “What’d you want?”

“Oh, uh, whatever. I’ll get the same as you,” Mikey shrugged.

“Ok, two of everything.”

The little speaker voice gave them their total and had them pull up to the window. Pete handed the worker his money. He had been scrambling to find quarters when he realized he didn’t have enough in bills.When the food was ready, the girl behind the window handed them a big brown bag and two shakes, which Pete passed off to Mikey. 

The girl behind the window was probably a little older than them, with light blonde hair and a bored expression. Pete was definitely making eyes at her.

“Thanks,” he said with a smile, “Hey, what time do you get off work?” Mikey rolled his eyes. He wondered how Pete had the confidence to just flirt with every girl he met. Honestly, he had already probably hooked up with half the girls in their school. Mikey figured he’d have to take a breather at some point.

The corners of her mouth turned up a bit, “ten thirty.”

“Maybe I’ll see you,” Pete said.

“Maybe,” She replied.

They began chatting a bit, Pete pulling some smooth, charming personality out of nowhere when just a few minutes ago he had been babbling to Mikey about all kinds of nonsense. And the girl in the window was eating it up. Mikey was getting impatient. He just wanted his weed, and how was he supposed to get it when Pete had all but forgotten he was there. Mikey turned around in his seat, to see a line of cars behind them.

“Pete,” He said. Pete was too busy to hear him. He tried again but nothing.

Pete then leaned out the car window to whisper something in her ear, which caused her to blush and giggle. He started kissing her neck and Mikey decided it was time to look away.

He started feeling quite uncomfortable being there for it all. Like he was third wheeling. Funny thing was, he knew this was tame for Pete. He didn’t see much of Pete’s attention seeking, cause they only ever hung out alone and high. He was more chill that way. He wasn’t that into this Pete, he thought. He knew he was like this, obviously. Everyone did. He just didn’t like it so much.

Thankfully, after that, Pete pulled out of the drive thru, parking at the edge of the lot, and began digging through the bag. He handed Mikey his burger and fries, then took out his own and grabbed his shake from Mikey. He dug in right away.

Mikey looked at him for a moment. It was weird. It kinda felt like he was hanging out with a different person. He looked the same. Tan skin, bleached dreads, and that wide mouth. But he was really different at that moment than usual. He knew, really he did, that it wasn’t that big a deal. It was just a weird shift. Going from a pretty average, maybe a little over excitable kid, to whatever served him at that moment. He wasn’t really sure he still wanted Pete’s weed.

“Why do you do that?” Mikey said without thinking.

“Huh?” Pete looked up from his burger.

“With that girl… you just-”

“It’s just a bit of fun Mikey, chill,” Pete laughed. It sounded forced.

“Yeah,” Mikey muttered, “Nevermind I guess.”

He fidgeted with his glasses a bit.

In the end, Mikey did end up smoking with Pete. He decided he definitely liked Pete better when he was high. Maybe that was mean, but it was true. He made a note not to hang out with him like that again.

“ _‘I_ _think_ _you’re_ _like_ _me_ ,’” Mikey mumbled to himself as he and Pete headed off to their own respective lives, “Fuck off.”


	2. The Sunroof

The three boys opened the door, hearing the little ding of the bell as they walked into the 7/11. There were rows of different snacks and groceries. There was a crowded register up front, and freezers lining the far wall with sodas and alcohol. In the corner there was a slurpee machine. Mikey and Frank headed to the back, while Gabe stayed and bought the boys a few packs of smokes up at the register. He had turned eighteen about a month earlier and was more than willing to buy his friends cigarettes if only to rub his advanced age in. And if they would pay him back. Frank went straight to the chip aisle and grabbed a large bag of sour cream and onion Lays. Mikey went to the slurpee machine, and filled up three cups. One Coke for himself and two cherries for Frank and Gabe.

Mikey looked around to see if Frank had caught up with him. His aisle was empty, and when he tried to look across the store, all he saw was Gabe’s curly brown head of hair. He walked up to the front to meet up with Gabe, and a few moments later Frank rushed out of the candy aisle. He slapped down his bag of chips (and no candy) onto the counter. They paid for their stuff, and while the man working the store put the food and smokes in a bag, Mikey saw Frank swipe a lighter off the counter. They all grabbed their drinks while Mikey took the bag and left. Once they were out of the line of sight of the store, Frank fished around in his jean pockets, pulling out the lighter, five Astro Pops, and a Hershey’s bar, then he stuffed his free hand into his hoodie pocket, pulling out a shit ton of Warheads, dropping them all into the plastic bag in Mikey’s hands.

“Frankie, you little klepto,” Gabe said, bumping Frank’s shoulder good naturedly. They all knew Frank was no stranger to a bit of theft now and then.

“I couldn’t figure out how to hide the chips though,” Frank sighed, combing his finger through his hair.

“Next time buddy,” Mikey said.

They walked down the street until they came to the baseball field. It was a community field, meaning no one was ever actually there. They walked to the edge, where a large stretch of grass was, right in the sunlight. It had gotten warmer in the middle of the day, so sitting outside was actually nice. They threw their jackets on the ground and plopped onto them and Mikey set the bag in the middle. They all picked at the contents of the bag and sipped their drinks while they talked.

“Were you guys wondering where I was at lunch today?” Gabe asked. He was absent mindedly fiddling with a dried orange leaf he had picked off the grass, crumbling it up in his hand. 

“No,” Said Frank, focus on his slurpee straw.

“Were you not at lunch?” Mikey asked. He had noticed Gabe hadn’t been at lunch, actually. It just wasn’t all that interesting because he did it fairly often, when he got in trouble, or went out to smoke, or just hang out with someone else.

“ _Yes Gabe, we missed you so very much. Where were you Gabe?_ ” Gabe said in a terrible impression of his friends, then smirked and answered his own question, “I was hooking up with Victoria.”

“Chemistry girl?” Mikey said and Gabe nodded. “Where?”

“Have you guys ever even talked?” Frank said, now shoveling chips into his mouth.

“Of course we’ve talked, Frank, I’m not a slut. And we were in the janitor’s closet.”

“You had sex in the janitor’s closet?” Frank asked.

Gabe looked appalled. “No dude, we just made out. You guys think I’d fuck someone in a janitor’s closet?”

Frank shrugged. Mikey took a sip of his slurpee.

“Ouch. Well at least I’m getting some,” Gabe said. He picked up another leaf.

“I would get some if I could just win one of those stupid fights!” Frank groaned.

“Not if your mom pulled you out of school for it,” Mikey said.

“I dunno, I’ve heard plenty of stories about Catholic school boys, ya know?” Gabe said, “Gotta get it somewhere.”

Frank threw a chip at him. Gabe caught it in his mouth.

“You speaking from experience Gabe?” Frank laughed.

Gabe winked at him. 

“But anyway,” He said, “Victoria’s coming over on Thursday.”

“I guess you’ll be needing these more than me,” Frank said, running a hand through his hair then pulling a few condoms from his hoodie pocket that had likely also been stolen in the convenience store. Gabe snickered, taking the condoms.

“You want any Mikey?” He offered.

“Nah, I’m standing in solidarity with Frank. No sex till he pops his cherry.” Frank actually wasn’t a virgin. Frank had a few girlfriends in the past, but as of late, he had been having pretty terrible luck in the dating department. So of course, they had to give him a hard time.

“Fuck off,” Frank said, kicking Mikey, “You’re just saying that cause you aren’t getting any chicks either.”

“Cause I haven’t been trying,” Mikey said. Which was true. Since his ex, Alicia, had broken up with him a few months back, he hadn’t really made an effort. He was just trying to enjoy being on his own for a bit. He had sort of just let Alicia be in charge of everything in life. He wasn’t so sure what was him and what was Alicia. He needed a break

“Why not?” Gabe asked.

“I just haven’t felt it lately,” Mikey said.

“‘Haven’t felt it’? Dude, there’s no way that’s true,” Frank said.

“Yeah man, we know you’re just as horny as everybody else,” Gabe said.

Mikey shrugged, “Not lately.”

“Dude you’re seventeen, how can you not be horny?” Gabe asked.

“Sorry. I’ll try harder.” Frank giggled at that.

“You know who’s really horny though?” Mikey started after a moment, thinking back to the other day with Pete. 

“Who?” Frank asked.

“Pete Wentz. I went to McDonalds with him yesterday, and he was practically fucking the girl working the window right in front of me,” Mikey said, “He probably did when she got off.”

“That’s Pete,” Gabe said.

“How do you fuck in a McDonald’s drive thu?” Frank asked.

“I don’t know. It was just weird.”

“Yeah, I told you,” Frank said, “He’s weird.”

“He’s eccentric,” Gabe said.

“No, I think he’s weird,” Mikey replied. He grabbed the Hershey’s bar from the bag and broke it into pieces. He passed it around. They sat for a while longer, until all the food was gone and their drinks were empty, took their respective smokes, then said their goodbyes and headed home.

On Wednesday, Frank stayed home because he had a weak ass immune system and had gotten sick again. His school year was probably a whole two months shorter than everyone else’s. Without him, and with Gabe off making out with Victoria all of lunch, the day had kinda sucked. He spent most of his time playing on his gameboy under his desk, but it died in fifth period. Thankfully, it was almost over. Mikey was heading to his Computer class when he felt an arm wrap around his shoulder. He turned and found the boy attached to the arm was Pete Wentz, with a goofy smile on his face.

“Mikeyway!” He greeted. Mikey thought he kind of looked like hell. Sure, Mikey most of the time looked like a fairly malnourished and insomniatic vampire with dumb glasses, but Pete looked… Well pretty much just looked coked out. He had heavy bags under his eyes, which looked up at Mikey so widely and intensely he wondered if Pete could even close them. He felt like he was practically vibrating against Mikey. Mikey was a bit worried he’d pass out or something.

“Hey Pete,” Mikey said.

“You wanna go smoke with me?” Pete asked, bouncing up and down like a little kid.

“I have class,” Mikey said. He took his glasses off and pretended to clean them on his shirt. He wasn’t in a rush to hang out with Pete after last time. He didn’t care much for third wheeling his own engagements.

“Pleaseeeeee Mikey?” He whined.

“Is this you trying to lure me to do something I won’t want to again?”

“We had fun last time!” Pete said, a little too loudly and a few people nearby looked over at them.

Mikey just blinked at him. 

“I promise, no surprise car rides. Just weed.”

“I have class,” Mikey said, just wanting to get out of there, “You’ll have to find someone else.” 

Pete jogged after him, “No one else will smoke with me! Not even Joe! C’mon Mikey, please?”

“Dude. Calm down,” Mikey said.

“What?” Pete sounded offended.

Mikey sighed, “Pete, I don’t know what’s up with you right now, but it’s weird and I have class.”

Pete’s face dropped and he left. Mikey stood there for a second, unsure of what had just gone down, before shaking it off and going to class.

Apparently, a lot more had gone down than Mikey knew, and if he had thought Pete was weird before, well he had to be just plain crazy now. 

He had gotten bored in class, and gone to waste time in the bathroom, but as he made his way there, he heard shouts and slapping shoes against the linoleum floors. The few other people not in class at the time all peered down the hall and watched as Pete came sprinting down in a frenzy with the campus security officers on his ass. He still had that wicked grin plastered on his face. Hell, he looked like he was having the time of his life, fleeing from the authorities. Mikey doubted the officers would catch him. Pete was pretty fast, he was on the soccer team. But it was still a strange sight. Though he would like to know what he had done to have them chasing him to begin with. Pete turned the corner at the end of the hall, the officers following.

Joe Trohman from Mikey’s physics class came out of the bathroom, seeing the tail end of the chase. He glanced over to Mikey.  
“What’s that about?” He asked with an amused chuckle. It was always a treat to watch the campus security running through the school after some kid.

“Dunno,” Mikey said, “They’re chasing Pete.”

Joe’s face sank a bit. He was pretty good friends with Pete, Mikey guessed he’d be worried. Mikey worried every time Frank got into a fight or was sent to the principal’s office. He was a little shit and most of the time he deserved it, but he still worried.

“This stuff happen to him a lot?” Mikey asked.

“Well he’s not chased by officers so much. But yeah,” Joe nodded.

“What d’ya think he did?”  
“Who the hell knows, man,” Joe answered tiredly.

“Let me know when you find out?” Mikey asked. He was a bit concerned about Pete-clearly something was seriously misfiring up in his head-even if he was kind of an asshole, Mikey at least used to like him. But he asked more out of curiosity than concern.

Joe gave him a nod and started to walk off, looking fairly perturbed. Mikey headed back to his own class.

The next day, Pete wasn’t in school. At least as far as Mikey could tell. News of what had happened had spread quick though. When Mikey met up with Gabe at his locker, Gabe immediately began talking about it, even prioritizing it over his pre-sex gloat that Mikey was sure he was gonna get.

“Did you hear about Pete?” God, it felt like that kid was all Mikey heard about the last few days. Though, that was probably Pete’s goal anyway. Anything for attention.

“What about him?” Mikey said, leaning up against the wall.

“He was chased by campus security yesterday,” Gabe said. He didn’t seem to think it was a big deal the way he was all cheery about it, just interesting. Gabe was always good for gossip.

“Oh, that? I saw that. Did-”

“You saw?” Gabe gaped.

“Yeah, whatever,” Mikey said, “Did they catch him?”

“Well he locked himself in the band room. They got him out I guess. I dunno what they did with him, though,” Gabe told him.

“Jesus,” Mikey muttered.

“Who?”

“What were they after him for?”

“He kicked the sunroof of Kelly Bisignano’s car in,” Gabe said. Mikey frowned a bit. He knew Kelly. They had a few classes together, she was always a pretty sweet girl. Definitely didn’t deserve to have Pete destroying her car.

“I think he was high or something,” Mikey said.

“Probably,” Gabe agreed.

“I talked with him earlier. He looked pretty shitty.”

“Sucks Frankie’s not here for this, huh?” Gabe joked. Mikey hummed in agreement.

The bell rang then. Gabe got his books out of his locker and the two boys went off to their classes, Gabe (sans Frank) to English, and Mikey to physics. He thought physics might have been the worst class to have first thing in the morning. Especially when they had run out of coffee the other day and no one had gone out to get anymore. He was practically dying here. When he got to the hell class he sat down beside Joe by the window. He looked over at Mikey and gave him a small nod in greeting.

“What’s up?” He asked.

“Not much… How’s Pete?” Mikey said.

“Pretty shitty I guess,” Joe said, “His parents are super freaked.”

“Is he home?”

Joe shrugged, whatever that meant.

“What happened? I mean like, why?”

“Oh uhm…” Joe trailed off. He tapped his pencil a bit, not saying anything.

“Was he on something?”

“No,” Joe shook his head. “No.”

They didn’t talk anymore. When the day ended, Gee was supposed to pick him up. He waited by the parking lot. He saw Kelly Bisignano’s car. There was cardboard taped over the sunroof.


	3. Catholic School

It had been four days since Mikey had seen or heard from Frank. When he was out sick his mother wouldn’t let him use the phone, so he would pretty much lose contact with the outside world until he got better. It was a big annoyance to both Frank and Mikey.

But on Tuesday morning Mikey had gotten a call from Frank, telling him he would be in school that day. So Mikey was waiting by the door in the morning, hoping to see him for the first time in forever. It took what felt like hours for Frank to arrive, and Mikey started to worry Frank might not show after all. Student after student walked through the doors, and Mikey was getting restless waiting. It would be better if Gabe were there, share the pain of it all, but he was off with some of his friends from his Spanish class. Why’d he even take Spanish? The dude was already fluent. Just to flake out on Mikey, for sure. 

When he saw Frank come in, bundled up in the biggest coat Mikey had ever seen, cheeks all red from the cold and still looking a bit sickly, he walked straight to him.

“Hey,” He said. 

“Hey,” Frank grumbled back. He kept his head low and Mikey thought he looked pretty pissed, eyes all narrowed and jaw clenched. Frank wasn’t pissed very often, and it threw Mikey a bit. One time someone had stolen Frank’s bike back in his eighth grade year and that had gotten him pretty riled, but Mikey was fairly sure Gabe had been the emotional support back then. He wondered if he should try to be more enthusiastic in this conversation. To lift Frank’s mood. He knew Gabe was always super out there with the whole ‘emotions’ thing. Frank too, generally. They were the talkers. Mikey wasn’t so sure how to do that. Even when he did feel strongly about something, it kind of just evaporated when it tried to leave his body.

“You okay?” Mikey asked, trying to put some sympathy behind it.

Frank turned to face him head on. The black eye he had been hiding for the last almost two weeks was completely uncovered. It was faded, but not enough to go unnoticed.

“My mom found out. I couldn’t cover up with her fucking up my ass the whole time.” He was calm, but Mikey could tell that on the inside, he was bubbling up with anger.

“Shit,” Mikey said, “What’d you tell her? What’d she say? Are you gonna have to leave?”

“I don’t know,” Frank said, picking at his chipped black nails. 

“You can’t leave, Frank,” Mikey said. Which was stupid and obvious.

“I tried to tell her the other guy started it but she didn’t buy it. She won’t fucking talk to me about it.”  
“What do you mean?” Mikey asked.

“I mean I asked what was gonna happen and she was like ‘we’ll talk about it later’,” Frank said. “She won’t fucking tell me what’s gonna happen to me.”

“Well she let you come today, right? That’s gotta be a good sign,” Mikey said.

“She won’t let me stay home if I’m not sick, and I can’t go to a school I’m not enrolled in yet,” Frank said, “It doesn’t mean shit.”

“I could vouch for you if you want. Tell her you didn’t start it,” Mikey offered.

“Nah man. I’m fucked.”

“You’re not fucked,” Mikey said.

“I am. My life is over. No fighting it.”

“You’re being dramatic Frank.”

Frank gave Mikey an impatient look, “Mikey, she’s gonna pull me out.”

“You really don’t think you can do anything?” Frank shook his head.

They walked in silence for a bit. Mikey wasn’t sure what to say. To help or just be sorry or what. And Frank didn’t even seem to want to talk about it. It was weird too. Frank had always been a pain in the ass about getting what he wanted, and now he was just giving up. He didn’t want to go back to St. Thomas's, Mikey didn’t want him to leave, and there was nothing to be done? It was bullshit. Maybe his mom wouldn’t even pull him. Maybe it was an empty threat. But Mikey didn’t want to rely on that. He wished Gabe were there. Gabe really knew how to push an issue, even if no one wanted to talk about it, because he knew how to voice his goddamn opinion. Man, he wished Gabe were there. Stupid Spanish class.

When they went off to class it was quiet and uncomfortable. Mikey was slumped in the back corner of his physics class against his chair, with a hurricane flying around in his head. He felt a flash of worry for his grades if the few times he actually showed up to this class he couldn’t even pay attention, but it disappeared quick. He was more worried for Frank. He had never gotten great grades anyway. School didn’t matter. But losing Frank definitely did. He was his best friend, they’d known each other since they were kids, even before Frank had switched to his school. He remembered how excited little Frank had been to tell him that he had transferred. And he could still see Frank sure, but when most of your life is spent at school, it couldn’t be the same. It was just hard. Him leaving would just-

“-Hey Mikey,” Joe said, sitting in the seat next to him and leaning in.

“Hey,” He mumbled back, still lost in the web of anxiety in his head.

“So, I was-”

“Joe,” Mrs. Harris called from the front of the class, “No talking.”

“Sorry ma'am,” He said. He mouthed, ‘Later’ to Mikey before shifting back to his own desk.

When class ended, Mikey left before Joe could talk to him. Joe was an alright guy, but the only thing they had ever talked about was Pete, and Mikey didn’t care. He knew what had happened and that was all he had wanted, now he was over it. No one bothered him in the rest of his classes, so he was able to just drift mindlessly around from room to room.

At lunch, the guys at the table were all their usual selves. Not exactly rowdy, but by no means anywhere close to somber like Gabe and Frank were when Mikey sat down. He figured Frank had told Gabe.

“Mikey,” Gabe said, “You believe this shit? He’s giving up!”

“What can I do Gabe?” Frank asked tiredly, picking at his school bought salad.

“I don’t know! Something!” Gabe said.

“She’ll probably let me stay the semester, that’s all I’m gonna get.”

“Maybe just try to talk with her,” Mikey said, “Cause she’s angry now, sure, but like, maybe that’s just her knee jerk reaction. And if she cools down you can work it out.”

“She’s been threatening to do this since last spring, man,” Frank said. He seemed worn out. Probably sick of having this same conversation over and over. Some feedback loop of trying and giving in.

“Throw a fit,” Gabe said.

Mikey and Frank looked at him.

“What?” Mikey asked. 

“Like start crying or threaten to off yourself or something.”  
“Gabe, I’m not gonna off myself,” Frank said.

“I’m not saying you have to off yourself,” Gabe continued, leg bouncing, “Just tell her you will if she tries to send you to that Catholic hell school.”

“So I get sent to a fucking nut house instead?” Frank gawked.

“At least I’m trying man!” Gabe was getting agitated.

“Don’t.”

“We’re not gonna just be okay with this Frank,” Mikey said.

“Yeah,” Gabe agreed, “You might be a little shit but I like having you around Frankie.”

Frank didn’t say anything, opting to chew on his lip instead.

“Could you work out a deal with her? Like you do the dishes for a month or clean the garage or something?” Mikey asked.

Frank pushed his fingers through his mohawk.“I don’t know,” He sighed.

“Shit,” Mikey said. He wasn’t giving in. But he didn’t really know where to go from there.

Frank continued playing with his lip. Gabe began eating his slice of pizza in the most passive aggressive manner he could and Mikey just kind of sat there. He busied himself cleaning his glasses on his shirt, and then drumming his fingers a bit. No one knew what to say. That was impressive when two out of the three people involved were Frank and Gabe. It was also incredibly uncomfortable.

When Joe came over and tapped on Mikey’s shoulder, he was almost relieved to have a distraction from the silence. At least until he remembered that Joe was most likely there to talk about Pete. He had been weirded out by Pete for a little, but after last week’s incident, Mikey was pretty much out. It was just too much for him. Gabe was as much of a ‘colorful personality’ as Mikey needed in his life. It sucked that he wouldn’t get to hang out with the cool Pete anymore, but they were never close. Not a major loss. He was over it.

But Joe was looking at him expectantly.

“What’s up?” He said.

“Not much…” Mikey replied.

“So, uh, got a minute?” Joe seemed almost as unenthusiastic as Mikey. Which begged the question, ‘why bother?’ if neither actually wanted the conversation to happen.

“I guess.”

“Cool.” Joe gestured for Mikey to follow him. He led Mikey to his own table. Pete wasn’t there. He hadn’t been in school since he smashed in Kelly Bisignano’s sunroof. There were some people sitting around who Mikey wasn’t familiar with. Who he did recognize was Pete’s group; Patrick, Andy, and obviously Joe. He didn’t know much about any of them though. They were friends of Pete, Patrick was a short kid with reddish blonde hair and weird hats, Andy had reddish brown hair to his shoulders and a pair of rectangular glasses, Joe had plain brown curly hair. Mikey remembered the year before it had been quite long, but he had since cut it much shorter. It was all observational. That was it.

“You… wanna sit?” Joe asked.

Mikey sat on the bench. Joe sat beside him.

Everyone was quiet for a moment. Mikey didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want to be at his own table either. Across from him, Patrick and Andy seemed to be waiting for Mikey to make the first move. When it became apparent that he wasn’t gonna speak, Patrick started. 

“Pete asked us to apologize to you,” He said.

“Huh?”

“He said that he might have been kind of a dick to you when he was… before all this. So, he wanted to apologize,” Patrick explained.

“Oh.”

“He’d do it himself but he’s still out, ya know,” Joe added.

“Was he on something?” Mikey asked bluntly. He knew it was a bit uncalled for, but after everything with Frank, and now back to Pete, he was feeling pretty on edge. And he was not a particularly eloquent person anyway. Clearly it showed, because everyone at the table seemed taken aback.

“No,” Patrick said.

“I’ve seen my brother do shit like that when he was high,” Mikey said. That wasn’t exactly true. When Gerard was high, he wasn’t as mindlessly destructive as Pete. But the other stuff, the wide eyes, the racing, the disheveled look, and the strange behavior, Gerard had that.

“He wasn’t high,” Patrick repeated. The way he said it, it sounded like he’d have preferred if he was.

“He’s just been doing shitty lately,” Joe said.

“How is he now?” He asked. It was mostly out of courtesy. Mikey could tell these guys were trying hard to talk to him, even none of them wanted to. Other than Andy. But he was just quiet, Mikey doubted it was personal. Still, he figured he could at least give a little.

“Better,” Patrick said.

“He’s coming back tomorrow,” Joe said.

“That’s good.”

“You should talk to him,” Joe said, “when he’s in school again.”

“Why?” It sounded ruder than Mikey meant it to. It seemed he was doing it a lot. He just meant, why would it matter if he talked to Pete? Cause they weren’t friends or anything. Pete had friends. He was constantly surrounded by people, Mikey doubted it would make a difference if he talked to him.

“Well, he was pretty upset that he weirded you out,” Joe shrugged.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Patrick said, “I get it's kind of hard to deal with his stuff if you don’t need to. But we’re his friends, you know, we gotta look out for him. He’d appreciate it, I think.”

“Yeah, sure,” Mikey lied. He didn’t plan on talking to Pete.

“Yeah?” Patrick asked. Mikey nodded. “Cool.”

There was silence for a beat.

“Well. I’ll see you guys,” Mikey said, getting up and waving a quick goodbye. 

Yeah, he wasn’t going to talk to Pete. He felt a little bad about it now, after hearing his friends talk about him, it backed up Mikey’s idea that there was some major malfunction in the dude’s head. But it wasn’t his job to deal with it. He had enough in his life. He had to worry about Frank right then. And it seemed like being a needy friend like Pete had just about the same effect as a needy girlfriend. Mikey didn’t want to be spending too much time with people who demanded attention like that. Alicia had been so in charge when they dated, Mikey never even felt like a part of the relationship. It was all about her. He figured hanging out with Pete would be the same. It was cool to smoke with him under the bleachers once in a great while, no strings attached. But it sounded like he was supposed to _be there_ for him now. Like he was responsible for Pete feeling better cause he had to talk to him. He really was sorry Pete was having it rough and all, but he wasn’t gonna be any part of it.

Frank and Gabe were going over Mikey’s. Frank was hoping to avoid his mom for as long as possible. Usually, when they all hung out it was fun. That day it was a bit depressing. On the walk over, Mikey and Gabe were quiet.

“Can you guys stop being so fucking mopey about all this shit?” Frank said.

“We’re mourning our loss,” said Gabe.

“What fucking loss? It’s just a different school, I’m not moving to fucking Miami!”

“This morning you said your life was over, now it’s okay?” Mikey asked.

“Yes.”

“It’s really okay with you?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“So what? Do you want to go to St. Thomas's now?” Gabe asked.

Frank let out a frustrated grunt. “Obviously I don’t want to fucking go! But I don’t get a goddamn say in it. If my mom pulls me, that’s that, and I wish you guys would stop trying to tell me it isn’t. I don’t like it. And stop treating it like it’s the ending of the fucking world. I’m still gonna live here! We can still hang out and all that shit! Just minus the school. Who cares? Besides, it’m still be here for a few months till the semester ends. You guy’ll be graduating in the spring, you’ll barely even notice! So can we all just stop acting like a bunch of twelve year old girls over this?”

All three of the boys stayed quiet for a moment, Frank’s little outburst hanging over them in the air.

“Sorry Frank,” Gabe said quietly, “I was trying to help.”

“Yeah. Sorry Frank.”

“Shit,” Frank sighed, “I know you guys wanted to help. It does suck. But can we just act normal?”

“Yeah, okay,” Mikey agreed.

“Totally normal,” Gabe said, “Virgin.”

“Shut the hell up,” Frank giggled, jumping up on Gabe. Gabe tried to shake him, but Frank had an iron grip. Mikey smiled a bit watching his friends.

When they got to Mikey’s house, they found Gerard and Ray sitting at the kitchen table looking over sheets of paper. Ray had a Taylor on his lap and his curly brown hair was hanging over his face. They looked up when they heard the boys entering.

Ray gave them a half wave, still partially focused on what looked to be a music sheet in front of him.

“Hey guys,” Gerard said, “Frank, the black eye making a reappearance?” 

“My mom found out. I stopped bothering with the makeup,” Frank said. Gerard gave him an apologetic look.

"She upset?” Ray asked.

“Very.”

“We’re pretending it didn’t happen,” Gabe supplied helpfully.

“That’s a good way to deal with things,” Gerard said.

“It’s working out so far,” Gabe agreed.

The younger boys sat at the table for a bit talking with Gerard and Ray. Frank asked about the music sheets, which Ray explained were pieces to a song he and Gerard were working on. All the margins were covered in Gerard’s little doodles. Ray let Frank fiddle with his guitar-probably feeling bad for the kid-while he went on about a lady at work who had been relentlessly trying to push crack on him for almost thirty minutes, saying ‘what a town, huh?’. Mikey wondered if Pete had been doing crack. Maybe that lady even was his dealer. He internally snorted at the thought.

Eventually, the two older men decided it was time to get back to work and kicked Mikey, Frank, and Gabe out of the kitchen. They went upstairs to Mikey’s room and Frank pulled a joint out of his bag. They opened Mikey's window, leaning out and blowing the smoke through it. It was a bit cold, but truly worth it. It had been an exhausting day, they all needed to let off some steam. And he was a sucker for good weed. Really, it felt like the only proper way he could end the day. High with his friends.

Frank had to leave at six, and with his mother still being mad at him, Mikey was surprised he had been able to go at all. Usually Frank was given free roam until nine. Stricter than Mikey’s curfew, which was ‘just come home eventually’, but it wasn’t bad. They waited outside on the front porch until his mom picked him up. Frank was fidgeting nervously. When his mother’s car pulled up, he took a big breath and turned to his friends.

“See you guys tomorrow. Probably,” He said, unceremoniously, then ran off to his car. 

Gabe stayed until around nine. He walked home himself. None of them lived especially far from each other. They usually just walked home, Frank’s mom was just hovering.

“You really think she’s gonna make him leave school?” Gerard asked.

“I hope not,” Mikey said.

“I’d guess she’s just trying to scare him,” Ray said, most likely trying to comfort Mikey, “When you have a kid like Frank, you probably get pretty desperate.”

“Yeah, probably,” Mikey agreed.

Just like Joe had said, Pete was back on Wednesday. You would’ve never guessed anything had happened the way he was acting. He came into school the same as always, all cocky and talking loudly to his friends. That was how it always was with Pete. He did something outrageous, and by the next day he had moved on and was gearing up for his next stunt. Like when he had jumped out a second floor window, he came to school the next day with a broken wrist and a grin. This time was a little bit more serious than usual, but Pete seemed pretty unaffected. He looked better than the last time Mikey had seen him, though not by much. He mostly looked tired. They had made eye contact in the halls, but Mikey had been quick to break it.

By ten, Pete had made something explode in his chemistry class, according to Gabe.

After fourth period, Mikey was heading to lunch. Of course, he was intercepted by Pete. He wondered if this was going to become a habit for the guy, getting in the way of Mikey’s commute from class to class. He tried to give Mikey a smile, but it looked entirely forced. Pete seemed aware of that, as he quickly dropped the false positive attitude, instead just looking a bit timid. Not very Pete.

“Hey Mikey,” He said. Usually his hellos included his full name. Mikeyway. Always had. Mikey didn’t know why.

“Hi Pete,” Mikey said. He had really been hoping to avoid Pete. He didn’t want to talk to him. But he could be hard to shake, he had learned.

“The guys talked to you, right? They said that they did,” He said, sounding anxious.

“Uh huh.”  
“You told them you were gonna talk to me.”

“I’m talking to you,” Mikey said.

“I feel really bad, ya know. I know I was being kinda shitty to you. It was also probably shitty to ask the guys to apologize for me, but I was really stressing about it. I didn’t know what to do,” Pete went on, “So, yeah. I’m sorry for all that.”

“Why?” Mikey asked, and Pete looked thrown. “Why were you stressing about it?”

“Because I was being shitty to you,” He said.

“Yeah but I mean,” _We aren’t friends, why do you care?_ Mikey thought. He wasn’t sure how to say it though.

“Mikey, I was being shitty. You’re cool, I don’t wanna be shitty to you. So I stressed,” He said.

“Okay.” Mikey didn’t really know what to say. Great that he apologized and knew he was acting weird? But that didn’t mean he was just alright with it. He figured he could forgive him more or less, it wasn’t like he killed someone. But talking to him still made him uneasy. He didn’t like how much Pete flipped back and forth with him. And the whole thing with the sunroof wasn’t helping.

Pete pursed his lips. He could tell he was getting frustrated with how little Mikey was giving him. Tough.“Are you busy after school? I could maybe try to make it up to you?”

“Why?” Mikey said again. He really didn’t get why Pete was going through all this trouble to get back on his good side. Did he do this with all his acquaintances he pissed off? Because if he did, he probably did this everyday. Mikey knew a lot of people found Pete’s stunts to be obnoxious. He probably pissed more people off than Frank.

“Why what?” Pete asked,

“Just, why do you care so much?”

“I told you, I think you’re cool. I was shitty. I don’t want you to think I’m shitty.”

Mikey took off his glasses and rubbed them on his shirt. “I’m busy after school.”

“Tomorrow?” The guy sounded a bit desperate.

“I don’t know. Maybe, Pete.” That meant no, he hoped Pete knew.

Mikey walked away and thankfully, Pete didn’t follow.

He headed to the lunch table, and found he was the first one there of his friends, in spite of his slight holdup. He went up to the kitchen to buy a crappy school lunch while he killed time, instead of sitting alone with the kids he didn’t know or like at his table. Usually he didn’t eat that shit, he just waited until he got home. But he had five dollars in his pocket and time on his hands, so he bought the gross looking and worse smelling pulled pork sandwich they were making that day. He got back to the table and Gabe appeared shortly after.

“You seen Frank?” He asked. Mikey shook his head, “He wasn’t in english.”

“I guess he’s out again,” Mikey said.

“You think his mom pulled him?” Gabe bounced his leg up and down nervously.

“He said he was here for the rest of the semester.”  
“His mom could have changed her mind,” Gabe said.

Mikey shrugged, taking a bite of his pulled pork. It was as bad as it smelled. Gabe was still worked up, glancing at the door. Usually Gabe was pretty easy-going. He cracked jokes in tough situations and always kept things light. But he was a lot more expressive than Mikey, so when something really bothered him, he would show it. He, Mikey, and Frank had all been friends for years, and even if Gabe liked to give Frank a hard time, he was one of his best friends. Mikey kind of wished he could be as outwardly upset as Gabe. Maybe it would make it better. He didn’t want to seem like he didn’t care. Frank was his best friend too. They knew Mikey was a pretty monotone guy, but he couldn’t help but dwell on the thought that, in situations like this, he just didn’t do enough.

The sound of someone plopping themselves down on the seat beside him snapped him and Gabe out from their brooding. Frank had sat down, giving his friends a smile.

“Who died?” He joked.

“Hey, Frankie,” Gabe said excitedly, “We thought you weren’t here today.”

“I came in late,” Frank said.

“Everything ok?” Mikey asked.

“Yeah,” Frank nodded, “Me and my mom had a fight. Nothing big. What’ve you guys been up to?”

“We watched Hamlet in English,” Gabe said.

“New or old?”

“Old,” Gabe said, “But they’re putting out a new one in a couple weeks I think. So they’re both gonna be old.”

“I heard that. You gonna watch it?” Frank asked.

Gabe laughed, “One Hamlet movie is enough for me.”

Mikey felt a bit sick with nerves. It was a perfectly normal conversation, but all he could think about was goddamn St. Thomas’s. He knew Frank wanted them to act like nothing had happened, but Mikey hated that. He hated that they just had to pretend everything was fine and talk about goddamn Hamlet. Maybe he was being dramatic. Frank had said himself, he wasn’t moving house. It wasn’t like they’d never see him again. But a part of Mikey worried they wouldn’t. Because what if Frank goes off to St. Thomas’s, and Mikey and Gabe stayed, and they both got so busy with their own lives that they just don’t have time for each other anymore? He hated that they couldn’t talk about that. Just goddamn Hamlet. Yeah, it made Mikey a bit sick.

Mikey had almost forgotten about his encounter with Pete, until he saw him at the end of the day while packing up his stuff. He wasn’t doing anything special, just dumping some books into his bag. At that moment, Pete looked like a normal dude, not one who jumped out smashed in car windows and hooked up with random McDonald’s employees. Mikey stood there for a moment, fiddling with his backpack strap. He wondered if maybe he should give Pete a chance. He just felt a bit bad for the guy. Sometimes he seemed so normal it made the other stuff feel unbelievable. But he was also pretty unstable and reckless. He wasn’t really sure what he wanted, or what he thought about Pete. He had little pieces of who Pete was, but no clue where it all came together. He probably just should have left Pete alone.

But Mikey was in a mood with Frank and Catholic school and all that weirdness. He decided, fuck it, might as well give him a go and if it sucks he never has to hang out with him again. So maybe he was feeling a little too turbulent to be thinking so clearly, but he didn’t dwell on it, because he ended up walking over to Pete and leaned his shoulder against the locker beside him. Pete looked up, and when he saw Mikey his face rose a bit. Mikey couldn’t tell if it was excitement, anxiety, or both.

“So, uhm, the thing I was supposed to do after school didn’t pan out…” He said.

“Oh,” Pete replied, sounding unsure.

“If you still wanted to hang out, ya know,” Mikey said, “I’m free now.”

“Yeah,” Pete said, a small smile growing on his face, “Yeah, I definitely still wanna hang out.”

“Did you have anything in mind or just whatever?”

“I had something in mind, yeah,” Pete said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> k here ends the chapter dump


	4. That's It

They were in Pete’s car. It was cleaner than before. He had gotten rid of the cans in the back, and most of the crumpled up balls of paper were gone. There was still some junk strewn about though. Like the rocks. Pete had turned the radio on, but Mikey thought he had just wanted background noise because it was playing some shitty pop station. Mikey knew from the few times they’d hung out that Pete had pretty decent music taste.

Neither boy had said anything for a bit. Just driving in silence while the radio hummed. Mikey wasn’t really sure what Pete was hoping to achieve, and now that he was there, he realized that it definitely hadn’t been a good idea to come. He felt really awkward sitting with Pete. He didn’t know what to expect from him anymore. His head was still having trouble figuring out whether or not to like him, which wasn’t good when they were supposed to be hanging out, and Pete seemed just as uneasy.

“So,” Pete began, “How’ve you been, Mikeyway?” When he said ‘Mikeyway’ it was hesitant, like he worried Mikey didn’t want him to call him that anymore. Pushing the line and hoping to make things more casual, when he wasn’t sure he was allowed.

“Alright.” Mikey wondered if he should ask Pete how he was. It seemed fairly stupid. Pete was doing bad.

“That’s good…”

“Yeah…”

They fell back into silence. Mikey leaned his head against the window, staring out. They drove past 7/11 and the baseball field.

“Do you wanna change the music?” Pete asked.

“Huh?”

“Do you wanna listen to something else?”

“Oh, sure.”

“There’s CDs in the glove box,” Pete told him.

Mikey opened it and shuffled through some of the CDs. There were a lot. Good ones, too. Some Metallica, Ramones, Green Day, and Misfits. Mikey picked out Static Age, opening it up and putting in the disc. He felt less tense with it on instead of the garbage pop from before. More familiar.

“So what are we doing, then?” Mikey asked. Pete had yet to have filled him in on how he was going to ‘make things up’ with him. Mikey didn’t want any more surprises from Pete.

“Well, I was gonna take you out to eat. Cause I was being a real dick last time so it seemed,” Pete paused, “Appropriate?”  
“So you’re not gonna fuck our server right in front of me, then?” 

Pete looked a bit embarrassed, saying “It wasn’t in front of you.” Mikey gave a dry laugh. “Fine, I get it. No exhibitionism.” 

“Already sounding better than last time.”

“Yeah. Seriously, I am sorry about that. I was in a weird place, I didn’t really know what I was doing. I didn’t mean to be shitty to you,” Pete said.

“Were you high?” Mikey asked. He had been told every time he asked that Pete hadn’t been on any drugs, but Mikey had trouble believing it. It didn’t make sense otherwise.

“No,” Pete said. He looked like he wanted to say more but he kept his mouth shut.

They pulled up to a pizza place that Mikey had been to a few times with Gerard. He couldn’t remember if it was good or not. The building was old looking, with neon signs in the window and a red canopy over the door. A pretty generic look for a pizza place. The small lot in front of it was mostly empty, so Pete was able to park in a spot right by the door. He turned off the car, the radio going with it, and the two boys got out of the car.

“I would’ve taken you someplace nice, but I spent most of my money on paints. I had no idea that shit was so expensive,” Pete said.

“You paint?” Mikey asked.

“No,” He said. 

He opened the door for Mikey and they stepped into the shop. It smelled like pizza (shocker). There were a few booths against the windows, and a big freezer full of sodas. There was a couple in one of the booths, the rest were unoccupied. At the back was the counter, and a door to what Mikey could only assume was the kitchen. The man behind the counter looked pretty out of it, glassy eyed and drooped over the register. 

“What d’ya want?” Pete asked.

“I don’t really care,” Mikey said, “Whatever you get’s fine.”

“You don’t have very strong opinions about food, huh Mikeyway?”

“Nope.”

“Drinks?”

“I’ll get a Coke I guess,” Mikey said.

“Great, Coke,” Pete repeated, “I’ll go order, you can sit.”

Pete hurried to the freezer, picking out a coke and a water, while Mikey went and sat at the booth in the corner of the store. He always picked corner seats when he could. While he waited for Pete to come back, he tapped his fingers against the table and wondered what, exactly, was happening. Was Pete trying to apologize genuinely, or just to ease his conscience? Was he trying to be friends here? Mikey was pretty sure he wasn’t fucking with him, but he just didn’t get why he was so concerned with what Mikey thought of him.

Pete came back and handed Mikey his Coke, sitting across from him in the booth.

“Here ya go, Mikeyway,” He said. 

“You’re just having water?” Mikey asked. It was funny, considering the guy used to have half a car full of soda cans. Now he was just having water.

“I’m cutting back on sugar for a bit,” He said.

Mikey turned the cap off his bottle and took a sip of his Coke. “Why?”

“Hasn’t been mixing well with me lately. It makes me weird.”

“What, you drank a soda and it made you smash in that car window?” Pete made a face. Mikey thought maybe he should lay off a bit. “Sorry.”

“Nah,” Pete shook his head, his dreads swaying a bit, “I mean, I did that. You can talk about it and shit.”

“Why did you do it?”

“I dunno. I was pissed off I guess. Took it out on her car. It made sense at the time…”

“Why were you pissed off?”

Pete shrugged, “Everyone was being weird with me. Like, my parents were being super hovery. And Andy kept looking at me all sad, and Patrick and Joe were all over me telling me to calm down whenever I did anything. People around school were always telling me off. And then you said you didn’t wanna hangout. I felt like people were just being assholes to me for no reason and I was pissed off. I get it now. I was totally in the wrong. But it felt real though when it was happening.”

“Are you sure you weren’t on drugs?” Mikey asked, “Cause sometimes my brother is like that. Ya know, we’re all worried about him cause he’s acting weird, and that pisses him off cause we’re trying to help and he doesn’t want us to.”

“I wasn’t on drugs. Really,” Pete said, playing with his water bottle cap.

“So what was-”

The man at the counter called Pete’s name. Pete looked rather relieved. Mikey guessed he didn’t want to talk much more about what happened with the car. Pete slid out of the booth and went up to get their food. He came back with two slices of pepperoni pizza covered in grease on paper plates, setting one down in front of Mikey. Once Pete had sat down, he went straight to eating his own slice.

“What were you saying?” He said through his food.

“Nevermind,” Mikey shrugged, taking a bite of his own pizza. It was too hot.

“Oh, ok,” Pete said, “...So, do you like dogs?”

That wasn’t really where Mikey expected the conversation to go.

“I guess so,” Mikey said.

“I have a dog. Hemingway. He’s rad,” Pete said, his face lighting up quite a bit then, “We got him when I was a kid. He’s pretty much my best friend. Totally awesome.”

“My friend Ray has a dog. He’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah, dogs are great. You should meet Hemingway sometime. You’d love him,” Pete looked excited at the prospect of showing off his dog.

“Yeah, sure,” Mikey said. He sort of hoped he wouldn’t really have to commit to that. Nothing against Pete’s dog. Though it seemed like Pete didn’t give a lot of empty invitations.

Pete gave him a cheery smile, and then returned to his pizza. 

Maybe Pete had a secret twin, Mikey thought. Like, there was a second Pete who did all that crazy shit. Because it really confused Mikey how this kid could exist like that. Going from a nice, reasonable guy who got all happy talking about dogs, to an erratic mess who destroyed someone’s car cause he was pissed off. He didn’t get it. Especially if drugs were really out of the mix. Even if it was drugs though, he probably wouldn’t tell Mikey. They weren’t friends and it would make perfect sense to want to keep that kind of thing close.

Mikey felt like he should try to keep the conversation going. Pete had been carrying it the whole time. It was tough. But he had chosen to say yes to hanging out so maybe he owed it to him. Plus seeing him all gooey over dogs made Mikey feel a little less heartless towards the guy.

“How’s it being back in school?” He asked. It was all he could think of. He didn’t really know Pete a whole lot. He didn’t know what else to ask him about.

“Kinda lame,” Pete said, “But beats sitting at home all day.”

“Really? That kinda sounds ideal to me,” Mikey said.

Pete shook his head, “I feel all trapped. It gets real lonely, ya know?”  
“You still saw your friends though, didn’t you? I mean, I know you guys were talking.”

“Yeah, I saw them,” Pete said, taking a sip of water, “ But I dunno, it isn’t really enough. Or something. I don’t like to be on my own that much. It kinda makes me crazy. At school it’s like, there’s so many people around you, you can kinda forget you’re alone.”

“Oh.” Mikey hadn’t really expected him to say that. It was a bit heavier than he assumed that going out for pizza would be.

“But it’s cool now,” Pete added.

“That’s good,” Mikey said and Pete hummed in agreement.

They finished up eating, making awkward small talk as they went. When they were done, Pete gathered up all their trash and took it over to the can. Mikey stood up and waited by the door until Pete joined him, and the two boys headed back to Pete’s car.

“Wanna smoke?” Pete asked, buckling his seatbelt.

“Yeah, sure,” Mikey agreed. Smoking was his favorite thing to do with Pete. Probably because it was the easiest thing to do with Pete.

“Cool, cool. I gotta go back to my house to get it, you good with that?”

“Mhm.”

“Cool.”

Pete started the car and turned the radio back on. As they drove, they talked some, Pete asked Mikey if he liked Buzzcocks. He said yes. Mikey asked if Pete liked The Smashing Pumpkins. Pete said yes. Mikey told Pete about the time he had seen them live with his brother. It was a short ride to his house. It was a pretty nice house, grayish blue with a large yard out front. The driveway was empty when Pete parked, Mikey assumed his parents were working. Pete got out of the car. Mikey hesitated, not sure if he was meant to wait for Pete to come back with the shit or go in with him. When Pete noticed Mikey was still sitting, he made a gesture for Mikey to follow. He got up and the two walked up to the front door. Pete unlocked it and a small bulldog came running up to them. Pete kneeled down and pulled the dog into his lap.

“Mikey, this is Hemingway,” Pete introduced, scratching the dog’s head.

Mikey leaned down and pet the dog a bit. “Hey, man.”

He looked up at Mikey with his droopy little dog eyes. Mikey liked how dogs always just looked very empty behind their eyes. They were sweet, but that seemed to be the depth of most dogs’ brains. They really were just along for the ride.

Pete lifted the dogs paw and mimed waving at Mikey. He was a weird dude.

After that, Hemingway had wandered off, Pete showed Mikey the way to his room, up the stairs and down the hall to the right. His house was all very neat, unlike Mikey’s. But once he got into Pete’s room he felt that more familiar air of messiness. It was a pretty average room as far as rooms went. An unmade bed in the corner beside a window, a nightstand and a dresser cluttered with junk. There was a desk pushed against the wall that was covered in papers and coffee mugs and unused paint supplies. There were posters all over the room for different musicians and movies. A few with soccer players, but Mikey didn’t know anything about that.

“You can sit down,” Pete said, as he lifted his mattress and began shuffling around beneath it.

Mikey sat down at his desk chair, swiveling about for a little. He saw that in the corner beside him, a spot previously blocked by the desk, Pete had a black Squier P bass. That piqued Mikey’s interest a bit. He leaned over and plucked at the strings a bit. 

“Alright, got it,” Pete said from across the room. 

Mikey stood up and joined Pete over by the now open window. Pete put the joint between his lips and pulled a lighter from his pocket. He breathed in the smoke and blew it out the window. He handed it to Mikey. Mikey had been smoking a lot recently, more than usual, but he figured that wasn’t such a big deal, especially with the stress he had been getting from Frank’s news. Plus he was with Pete, who’s best attribute was his weed. He took the joint, inhaling the smoke. It was warm in his throat, he loved the taste. He let go of it and passed the joint back to Pete.

“You play?” Mikey asked, turning to point at the Squier.

“Mhm.”

“Same,” Mikey said.

“Shit, that’s sweet. We can be bass bros,” Pete laughed, taking a hit and holding the joint out for Mikey.

“Bass bros?” Mikey took it from Pete, putting it between his lips.

“Bass bros.”

A gust of wind blew by, tossing Mikey’s hair in his face. When Mikey tried to suck in more smoke, the joint was dead.

“Shit, gotta light again,” He muttered, pushing his hair back into place.

“Here,” Peter said, holding the lighter up, flame catching the end of the joint.

Mikey took a hit, before saying, “Frank’s been buggin’ me to start a band with him.”

“He plays?” Pete asked, plucking the joint from Mikey’s hands.

“Guitar. But a bass player and a guitarist aren’t really a band.”

“Yeah, I guess not,” Pete said, taking a drag. The joint was getting short. The wind was taking a lot of life out of it. “ I’m in a band with Patrick and the guys. I’m not very good. But it's fun anyways. And the other guys are good.”

Mikey had actually heard them all playing before. Not together as a band, more just casually picking up an instrument. But he’d see them hanging out in the band room after school a few times. Patrick definitely had a hell of a voice.

“Ever do shows?” Mikey asked as Pete passed him the joint, inhaling.

“Yeah, sometimes.”  
“That’s really cool. I think performing sounds terrifying,” Mikey said, “I love watching shows, but being out in front of all those people? I’d probably throw up.”

“No, it’s great. Gets you outta your head, ya know?” Pete said, “Besides, I bet you’re a natural.”

“I’ll take your words for it. I think I’m gonna stick to just listening to music for now,” Mikey told him.

“Lame,” Pete said, looking regretful as soon as the words passed his mouth. Like he had slipped up and Mikey would take it personally-because lame was such a hurtful insult. Mikey guessed he was just being hypersensitive and wasn’t sure where the two of them stood. Mikey handed him the joint as a sort of olive branch, which Pete took, taking in a big breath of smoke. “Last hit,” He told Mikey, holding it out for him. Mikey took it, holding it in his throat for a bit, letting go and putting out the roach. Pete flicked it out the window.

The two boys were laying on Pete’s floor, head to head, laughing at nothing in particular. Hemingway had come in some time earlier and curled up on Pete’s bed, snoring softly. Mikey had a light, bubbly sensation in his chest. He was actually feeling okay about agreeing to hang out with Pete. Sure, it had been decently weird and awkward through most of it, but once they were high, it became a lot more fun. Pete had been trying hard the whole time, Mikey knew, but sober he just couldn’t appreciate it all that much. Now, with the help of a good smoke, he felt himself warming up to the guy. Even if he was pretty strange.

Pete had been rambling to Mikey about one of the songs he and his band had been working on for a while. Mikey wasn’t really following, he had never heard the song, but it was fun to listen to Pete talk.

“I just think it’s missing something,” Pete said.

“Huh?” Mikey asked.

“The song. Like, I dunno, it just isn’t coming together right,” He said.

“That happens to Gerard a lot,” Mikey mused, “He usually has Ray look over it.”

“Who?” Pete asked. 

Mikey started laughing, and then Pete started laughing as well. Neither boy seemed to know what they were laughing at in particular. Mikey was just laughing because Pete didn’t know Gerard and Ray (because it was so eye rollingly obvious who they were) and Pete was laughing because Mikey was laughing. 

“Who are they?” Pete repeated through his giggling.

“My brother. And our friend,” Mikey said.

“They make music?”

“Yeah. Ray’s really fucking good,” Mikey said, “Gee mostly just writes. He sings sometimes.”

“You and Frank should make a band with them!” Pete exclaimed and Mikey burst into laughter again, mostly at Pete’s rush of excitement. “It’d be sweet, Mikeyway. Our bands could perform shit together. Bass band bros.”

“No drummer,” Mikey stated.

“Get a drummer! C’mon Mikeyway, it’d be so cool.”

“No,” He dismissed half heartedly.

“Mikeyyyyyyyyy,” Pete whined.

Mikey reached up to give Pete a small smack in the head, “Shut up, dick.” 

He had meant it as a joke, he wasn’t actually bothered by Pete just then. But Pete stopped laughing a bit, and mumbled out a small ‘sorry’. Mikey sat up and looked down at the other teen.

“I was kidding, man, don’t worry about it,” He told him.

“Oh, sorry. I thought- maybe I was annoying you. Sorry,” Pete said, playing with his hoodie strings.

“You weren’t,” Mikey said. Pete definitely could be annoying, but at that moment Mikey had no issue with him. He liked Pete high.

“Ok,” Pete nodded slowly, looking up at Mikey, “You can tell me if I am, though. Being annoying. I’ll back off.”

“Since when are you all self conscious, dude? It’s all cool,” Mikey said, and once again, he seemed to have missed the mark with Pete, whose face fell again. God, Mikey just could not place this guy. He was so all over the map all the time. He could go from perfectly fine to total freak out to a nervous little shell at warp fucking speed.

“Sorry. I’m a little fucked up, with the- with the weed. Yeah,” Pete explained sheepishly, “I was supposed to stop smoking. It makes me get weird.”

“Then why’d ya smoke?” Mikey asked.

“I was kinda freaking out,” Pete said.

“You were?”

“Yeah,” He nodded, “Cause you’re like, kinda scary sometimes. I never really know what you’re thinking. And we always smoked when we hung out before, so… I was just kinda freaked.”

“Why do you care so much if I like you?” Mikey asked. It had been pressing over him the whole day. It seemed so unimportant, making up with him when they barely even knew each other. Pete was going out of his way for this, which Mikey had kind of just been making harder, and they had never been friends in the first place.

“I already told you, I don’t want you to hate me or anything,” Pete said.

“Yeah, but why me? I mean, no offense Pete, but there are plenty of other people in school who hate you way more than I do,” Mikey said.

“I just think you’re cool Mikeyway,” Pete said, “I kinda fuck up a lot of things in my life. I kind of always liked hanging out with you. We never did it a lot, and I was trying to change that but I got all weird, and I thought maybe you would hate me. I don’t want that. You’re cool.

“Like, remember last spring, when we got high and you took me bowling, cause I was having a fight with Patrick and I was all upset? That was really cool of you. You were being really nice and I was like ‘I wanna do this stuff more with him’. That’s why I was buggin’ you to hang out with me and when I realized you weren’t into it I freaked. I have no idea how to talk to you sometimes. But I really want to. You’re cool.” 

“That’s it?” He didn’t mean it like it was some simple thing. He was actually a little floored that Pete had hung onto that. That’s what he meant when he said ‘that’s it’. 

“That’s it.”

“I don’t hate you…” Mikey said. He wasn’t sure what else to say. He was sure though that he felt pretty bad about how difficult he had been with Pete all day. 

“Thanks Mikeyway.”


	5. Sensitive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol sorry if this feels like its wandering i haven't planned out any of this

Gabe had been losing his mind a little over Frank’s impending exit. For the last month he had kept a happy face around Frank, but it was totally fake. When he was alone with Mikey that became apparent. It wasn’t like Mikey wasn’t upset either. He was just as cut up as Gabe. But Gabe wore his heart on his sleeve and Mikey was a whole lot more subdued. Gabe just wasn’t used to bottling up, and it was making him a wreck. His solution to this problem was to throw a party, of course. A mix of a goodbye ceremony, an uplift, and a distraction for their group. Obviously, they weren’t the only ones who would be there. That would have been a pretty depressing party. Gabe had actually invited basically the entire school. And he was forcing Mikey and Frank to come. Mikey and Frank liked parties all right, but there was a bit of a dilemma in the form of Frank’s mom. And if Frank wasn’t going, Mikey wouldn’t want to either. Still, Gabe insisted.

That was what they were talking about that afternoon. They were hanging out in the library, waiting for Frank’s mom to pick him up away from the December cold. Frank sat on the windowsill, watching the parking lot while Mikey and Gabe sat on a pair of old worn out bean bags.

“C’mon, Frankie, you can’t skip out on me, “Gabe said, “I’m throwing this party to honor you, you can’t just not be there!”

“Gabe, I’m grounded,” Frank told him.

“Still?” Gabe groaned.

“Until I leave, yeah,” Frank said, “My mom thinks it’ll keep me outta trouble.”

“So then why’s she let you hangout with us?” Mikey asked.

Frank shrugged. “She likes you guys.” He said, adding to Gabe, “Plus, she’s in book club with your mom.”

“We are a charming group,” Gabe said.

“Tell her you’re just gonna sleepover with us. Nothing big,” Mikey said.

“I’m not allowed to sleepover either dumbass.”

“What if you say it’s just cause we’re gonna miss you so much we wanna cram in time with you cause you’re our bestest friend?” Gabe suggested, “Or you could sneak out.”

“No. I’m in enough trouble already. I think I’ll just sit this one out,” Frank declined.

“Frankie! You gotta come!” Gabe said.

“Yeah, you can’t leave me to go alone,” Mikey added. Frank was always his party buddy. They would stand against the wall and get drunk together while Gabe was off dancing and chatting with people Mikey and Frank didn’t know.

“Just hangout with Pete,” Frank said.

“You’ve seen Pete at parties,” Mikey said, shaking his head, “I’ll be ditched before I even get in.”

Mikey and Pete had hung out a lot more since the day with the pizza place. Most of their time together was still spent high, but Mikey found he actually liked the guy sober sometimes too. He was cool. Not smashing car windows and having sex with fast food restaurant employees in front of him. But he figured that coolness wouldn’t extend to parties. He was still something of a wildcard. It was as good a plan as sticking with Gabe.

“I bet he’d stay with you. He’s real soft for ya,” Frank said.

“Totally,” said Gabe.

It was kinda true, Mikey had to admit. Pete had started being really sweet with Mikey lately. It was odd, because in school he was the same attention whore as always, but alone he was just a guy. He was much nicer. Sometimes even seemed insecure. But in public, he was the same old dude. Just earlier that week he had stolen the door off the music room (how, Mikey had no clue). He had been caught, obviously. He had wanted to be. Always the attention whore. Same as ever. And Mikey said as much.

“He’s still Pete… He’s noncommittal.”

Just then, a pair of tan arms wrapped themselves around Mikey’s neck. He looked up to see the previously mentioned Pete smiling over his shoulder.

“Who’s noncommittal?” He asked.

“My dad,” Frank said. Mikey snorted.

“So Pete,” Gabe said, “You comin Saturday?”

Pete moved to sit down in Mikey’s lap, saying, “Sure.”

“You think you could stick with Mikey then? Frankie can’t make it and Mikey's being a baby, sayin he doesn’t wanna be alone,” Gabe said.

“Yeah, of course,” Pete said.

“Told you he wouldn’t ditch you,” Frank gloated.

Pete turned his attention over to Mikey. “You thought I’d ditch you?”

“No,” Mikey said.

“He did,” Frank said, “But I told him you wouldn’t. You’re totally soft for him.”

Pete blushed a bit. Mikey kicked Frank’s leg.

“Don’t be a dick, Frank,” He said.

“Nah. Nah, it’s fine,” Pete laughed a bit embarrassed, “I am kinda all over you sometimes.”

“You’re like that with everyone,” Mikey said. He had seen Pete get cuddly with Patrick plenty of times. Less frequently with Andy or Joe, but it definitely happened.

Pete shrugged.

“Shit,” Frank mumbled from the window, carding his fingers through his hair, “Mom’s here. I’ll see you guys.” 

“See ya, Frank,” Mikey said.

“Later,” Frank said as he gathered his things, and ran out of the library, pulling his coat on clumsily as he went. The librarian scolded him as he passed.

“Ask about the party, Frankie!” Gabe called after him. The librarian shushed him.

“I should probably get going too. I just wanted to see ya” Pete said, “I have band practice.”

“So you  _ are _ ditching me, huh?” Mikey joked.

“I’m not gonna ditch you. You’re clingy, Mikeyway.” With that, Pete gave Mikey a quick peck on the cheek and left. Mikey noticed Gabe’s leg bouncing impatiently as Pete departed.

Once he was out of earshot, Gabe smirked and said, “I think he’s gay.”

“What?”

“He just kissed you, Mikey. He was like, cuddling with you,” Gabe laughed.

“He’s just touchy,” Mikey said.

“That wasn’t touchy, dude,” Gabe said, “That was full on homoeroctic I’m-into-you-in-a-serious-way canoodling.”

“Canoodling?” Mikey deadpanned.

“Absolutely canoodling.”

“Seriously dude, he’s like that with everyone,” Mikey told the other boy.

Gabe shook his head, “That’s even more gay then.”

“He’s more girl crazy than you are.”

“He’s compensating.”

“Are you compensating too? Cause you got a little crush on Pete?” Mikey asked, “Want me to put in a good word for you with him?”

“He’s too short for me,” Gabe said.

“Who isn’t?”

“Don’t get smart with me just cause you know I’m right.”

Mikey shook his head, giving Gabe a small laugh. “Whatever, man.”

“Ok  _ Mikeyway _ .”

Mikey had shown up at Gabe’s early to help set up. His parents were out of town visiting family friends up in New York. They usually brought Gabe along, but he had mostly stopped going since October when he had turned eighteen. He had Mikey bring drinks, because it was common knowledge his brother could get his hands on pretty much anything with ease, even only being nineteen. Supplying the booze also meant Mikey had first go at it. He was already a bit drunk as he was setting up the drinks out on the kitchen counters while Gabe worked the speakers in the living room.

“What are ya gonna play?” Mikey asked.

“Jay Z, Madonna, Garbage, maybe some Mariah,” Gabe said, “Always Be My Baby is always good for this shit.”

“That song sucks,” Mikey said, glancing back at his friend through the kitchen entrance.

“Whatever’s popular, man.”

When people started to arrive, Mikey grabbed himself a couple beers and headed to the couch in the living room. The house filled up pretty quick, and Mikey was swallowed by the expansive crowd. Mikey wasn’t a big fan of it, choosing to mostly just focus on his drink until Pete showed up. If he had really meant it when he said he'd stick with Mikey at least. He waited for a bit, but he was getting a bit claustrophobic with all the people and the loud music. ‘Music’. Mikey liked loud music. And he liked shows with lots of people. It was more about  _ these _ people and  _ this _ music that was wigging him out. When he had finished his last beer, there was still no sign of Pete and he was starting to want to just leave. The last straw was when a couple crashed down beside him, too engrossed in each other’s mouth to notice that they were crushing Mikey into the side of the couch. He wasn’t drunk enough. He pushed his way through the mass back to the kitchen. He was getting overwhelmed, but the kitchen was a bit more bare than the living room, so he at least got a chance to breathe. Whatever shitty pop song had been blaring was more muffled then too.

As he picked up a new beer out of a cooler, a girl stepped up beside him. He looked over at her. She was dressed in a lot of black. She had brown hair that covered most of her face, a good deal darker than Mikey’s, and a lot of eyeliner.

“Hey,” She said.

“Hey,” He said back. He pointed at the cooler, “D’you want one?”

“Sure.” She smiled.

He reached back in and handed her a beer.

“Thanks.”  
“No problem. ‘M Mikey by the way,” He said. It occurred to him that, with the amount he was slurring his words, he probably didn’t need another beer. He took a sip from his bottle.

“I know. We have history together. I sit a few seats to the left,” The girl said.

“Shit, sorry. I don’ really pay attention n that class,” Mikey told her.

She giggled, “Usually you don’t even show up.”

“So… what’s your name, then?”

“Jessica,” She said.

“Cool.”

Jessica nodded. “So are you with someone?”

“Like, here or in general?” Mikey asked.

“Both.”  
“No,” Mikey said.

Jessica gave him a coy smile, “Me neither. Do you maybe wanna-”

She was interrupted by Pete bounding over and wrapping an arm around Mikey.

“Mikeyway, I’ve been looking all over for ya!” He said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“When d’ya get here? I was on the couch for like, an hour,” Mikey replied.

“I dunno, ten minutes ago maybe? I might have gotten distracted for a bit though. Sandra Ricci asked me to dance, ya know,” He said, “I was worried you’d left already.”

“Me and Mikey were actually talking just now, Pete,” Jessica piped in, a slight edge tinged her voice. She wanted Pete to leave.

“Ok,” Pete said, staying firmly in place.

“It was private,” Jessica continued.

“I don’t mind,” Pete said.

Jessica gave Mikey a look, like asking him to tell Pete to fuck off. He shrugged. She let out a frustrated groan and walked away.

“I don’t think she liked me,” Pete laughed, grabbing himself a beer bottle.

“Probably didn’ like you cockblocking,” Mikey replied.

“I was helping you there, man. You could do better,” Pete said.

“Who says I wan’d help?”  
“Were you going to sleep with her?”

Mikey shrugged. “Probably not.”

“So then I helped,” Pete said, taking a sip from his beer before grabbing Mikey’s wrist and dragging him out of the kitchen with a, “C’mon.”

Pete led him through Gabe’s back door onto his porch. It was chilly out. Mikey could see his breath. It hadn’t snowed yet, which was nice at least. And the fresh air didn’t hurt. It was calm outside, the noise of the party muffled. If you ignored the cold it was quite pleasant. Pete, who seemed to have only just realized the temperature, whispered a small ‘shit’.

“I’ll be right back,” He said, placing his beer on a rail and hurrying back inside.

Mikey waited for a bit. He sat down on the porch step, which creaked under the pressure. He curled up into himself a bit, holding his bottle close to his chest. Pete came back out after a few minutes with a plush looking blanket.

“Sorry it’s so cold out,” Pete said as he joined Mikey on the steps, wrapping the blanket around them, “Gabe let me borrow this.”

“’S alright,” Mikey said.

“You just didn’t seem too thrilled to be in there, ya know, I thought this might be nicer.”

“It is.”

Pete was really warm, and under the blanket all the heat got trapped. The cold wasn’t all that bad.

“That shit always gets old fast,” Pete said. Mikey snorted. “What?”

“’S just funny. You’re always, like, the life of the party,” Mikey explained, stumbling over his words.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t get sick of it sometimes.”

Mikey paused, then blurted out, “Are you really like that?” He hadn’t meant to say it. He wasn’t super sober. And he didn’t really buy that Pete was such a party animal. Just that he wanted people to think he was one. He always seemed down on it one on one.

“Like what?” Pete looked at Mikey, confused.

Mikey gestured vaguely out at Gabe’s backyard. “I dunno. Crazy?”

“Crazy?”

“You don’t seem crazy. Most of the time,” Mikey said, “But sometimes you just act so… Like you’re two different people. Like, I dunno why you make yourself do those things.”

“I dunno, Mikey,” Pete said.

Mikey sighed, rolling his head back a bit. He wasn’t making sense, he knew. He was probably upsetting Pete too. Called him crazy. It was mean. Pete probably was crazy too and that made it worse.

“’M sorry, man. I’m kinda drunk right now.”

“It’s okay.”

“Nah, I’m bein mean. You can just go back inside, man, I think ’m gonna go home,” Mikey said.

“I don’t wanna go inside,” Pete said, “Besides, I said I was gonna babysit your ass.”

“Ya think I need a babysitter?” Mikey asked.

“Gabe’s paying me. Doesn’t matter if you need one, I just want my cash,” Pete joked.

Mikey laughed a bit.

“So what? You’re gonna make me some dino nuggets ‘n tuck me into bed?” Mikey slurred.

“If you want.” 

Mikey laughed again. He liked Pete. He was a good dude. But Mikey wasn’t sober, so of course he thought that. He was drunk, and he felt all warm and a bit tired. He leaned his head against Pete’s shoulder. Pete tensed for a second, before leaning into it a bit. And they sat like that for a while. Mikey heard Always Be My Baby playing inside. It was nice. Really nice. Mikey didn’t like Mariah Carey, but otherwise it was nice.

Unfortunately, it was also cold out, and blankets and body heat only did so much. Eventually, they had to go back inside, to all the obnoxious noise and obnoxious people. Mikey thought it might have been rather ironic that he was upset about noise and obnoxious people when he had just been hanging out with Pete. Oh well.

Once inside, Pete said had to go to the bathroom, and he promised Mikey he’d be right back.

“I’m not ditching you, I swear,” He said before disappearing back into the crowd.

Mikey leaned himself up against the wall, waiting. He looked around the clusters of people. He could see Gabe making out with some girl. A few of the guys from his lunch table had conjugated nearby. He saw Jessica with a group of girls he assumed were her friends. At some point, they made eye contact, and she had come over to talk to him. Pete still wasn’t back, and Mikey’s head was blurry enough to not remember he was even supposed to be back, so Mikey let Jessica grab his hand and take him upstairs.

Sunday, Mikey woke up on Gabe’s bedroom floor with a splitting headache. Gabe had given him some water and an Advil with a lazy pat on the back as congratulations for ‘finally getting back on the horse’ whatever that meant. Both boys looked a mess, all ragged and worn out. Gabe let him take a shower before he left while he cleaned up. Mikey didn’t hear anything from Pete the rest of the day. It wasn’t particularly strange, it wasn’t as if he called Mikey every day or anything-just most of them. But Mikey had a little voice in the back of his head telling him it was because he had walked out on Pete at the party. That Pete was mad. It was almost funny, that Pete had been trying so hard to make sure Mikey wasn’t mad at him, and now he was mad at Mikey. It was justified, Mikey shouldn’t have just left him. Mikey just hoped he didn’t smash any car windows this time.

Frank did call him though.

“How was the party?” He asked. Very loudly. Very, very loudly. Little bastard.

“Fine,” Mikey muttered.

“Gabe told me you got laid!” Frank continued on his very, very loud voice.

“What?”

“Yeah he said he saw you with some chick! Wish I had been there! I bet I would’ve gotten lucky too!”

“Please stop talking.”

On Monday, he didn’t see Pete in school. He usually waited by Mikey’s locker. He was starting to worry Pete really was mad at him. He didn’t see Pete in the halls either. He wished he had classes with him so he’d know whether or not he was even there that day. Mikey had pretty shit classes, though. The only person he knew in any of them was Joe. And Jessica he supposed. But still, pretty lonely. He hated school. Mikey spent most of the day trying to figure out ways to convince his mom to let him drop out. By third period all he had thought of was get famous or addicted to heroin and go to rehab. He figured heroin wasn’t his only option there, though. Meth or crack would probably get the job done too.

Between English and gym-which really just meant between English and Mikey hiding out in the library-Frank and Gabe caught him in the halls.

“ _ Mikeyway _ ,” Gabe greeted cheerily, “I’ve got a break in the case.”

“The case?” Mikey said.

“The Pete case,” Gabe said.

“Oh right, of course. The Pete case.”

“Pete being gay,” Gabe stated, as if it was obvious.

“Pete’s gay?” Frank asked.

“Yep.”

“He’s not gay,” Mikey said, fidgeting with his glasses, “Gabe just wishes he was.”

“I could see it,” Frank said with a shrug.

“Of course you can. Cause it’s true,” Gabe insisted.

“How d’ya figure?”

“Saturday night, after you left with that gothy chick he was lookin’ for you,” Gabe started, “He asked if I had seen you and I was like ‘yeah, he just went upstairs with some girl’ and he totally freaked.”

“Freaked?” Mikey asked. God he hoped he didn’t smash another car.

“Mhm. Got all panicky and left. He was definitely jealous,” Gabe said, a proud smirk on his face.

Mikey shook his head. “You’re overthinking it.”

“You’re underthinking it,  _ Mikeyway _ ,” Gabe teased.

“I definitely think Pete could be fruity,” Frank agreed.

“Last week he kissed Mikey,” Gabe said to Frank, grinning.

“Holy shit no way! Mikey, were you into it?” Frank said.  
“What?” Mikey snapped, “No, dude. I’m not fucking gay. It wasn’t even like, a kiss, it was just on the cheek.”

“Nah, I bet you were into it,” Frank laughed.

“Filed it away for later,” Gabe joined in.

“You guys are dicks.” Mikey’s friends just laughed even hard. He groaned and walked off to the library. 

Mikey had his Gameboy hidden in the book he was pretending to read. He had been playing Pokémon Red for the last thirty minutes instead of going to gym, like he did most days. He wasn’t so much a gym guy. Actually, he wasn’t at all a gym guy. He did like kickball though. Watching sports was fine, it was the participation that got him. And gym was all about participating. So he skipped.

He was pretty enthralled in the game, so he didn’t notice when someone sat down in the chair beside him until they spoke.

“Mikey.” Mikey looked up and saw Andy sitting next to him.

“Oh, hey man,” Mikey said.

“I wanted to talk to you ‘bout something,” he said. Mikey wasn’t sure they had ever talked one on one before.

“Ok, that’s cool.”

“So, Pete-”

“Is he mad at me?” Mikey interrupted.

“No,” Andy said, “I was just gonna tell you he isn’t feeling well.”

“Oh.”

“In a depressed way, not like he’s sick.”

“Oh,” Mikey said. He was a bit shocked. Pete Wentz was depressed. But then, when he thought about it, it really shouldn’t be such a surprise. Looking back, Pete definitely never really seemed very happy. Mostly hyper and loud. Which could be mistaken for happy it seemed.

“Yeah. Listen, I don’t really know what happened, but I know it had something to do with you. And it isn’t your fault, but Pete can be sensitive, ya know? I think you just gotta keep that in mind with him. And no one told you that so I figured I would. Cause he does this a lot.”

It was because Mikey had ditched Pete for Jessica… Or maybe Gabe was right and it was because of Jessica. But that would mean Pete was gay. Mikey shook the thought from his head.

“Oh.” 

“I think it’s better you know that. For both of you. Pete can be tricky,” Andy continued, “But he’s my friend, so I’m gonna look out for him.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I get that…” Mikey said. He thought about Gerard. Gerard got depressed plenty. He usually got drunk or high or both to deal with it. He would always look out for Gerard, whatever that meant. And he knew Gerard would do the same for him. The brothers had a lot of similarities. Unfortunately, low moods and substance abuse had been one of them. Mikey wasn’t stupid. He knew he was a little liberal with the smoking and the drinking. He took pills every once in a while if he really felt like shit. He knew it wasn’t great. He wasn’t as bad as Gerard of course. But he still knew he wasn’t supposed to spend every day intoxicated. Life was hard. It was hard for Pete too. It was weird but it made sense.

“Alright. Well then take care, man,” Andy nodded. He got up and left Mikey to sit by himself.

_ Shit _ , Mikey thought.


	6. Are You Buggin?

“Do ya think they’ll make u change your hair?” Mikey asked.

Frank looked over at the boy beside him, confused. He was sitting upside down on his couch next to Mikey, who was not upside down. He had dragged it out of his basement last year and put it in his bedroom. Usually it was too covered in clothes to sit on. 

“What?” He said.

“St. Thomas’s,” Mikey said, “Do you think they’ll make you change your hair?”

“Why would they?” Frank said.

“I dunno. It’s kinda punk,” Mikey said.

“That’s the point.”

“Yeah but they're Catholic. They probably don’t like punks.”

“They can’t make me change my hair,” Frank argued, “Shit. I hope not.” 

Mikey shrugged. “I bet if you don’t the guys there’ll give you a hard time.”

“Too faggy for the choir boys?”

Mikey chuckled, “The nail polish doesn’t help.”

“Yeah, well they can blow me,” Frank said.

“They’d probably be into it,” Mikey said.

It was Wednesday. It was the first time in while that Frank’s mom had let him see Mikey outside of school. He was still grounded, so their hangouts were few and far between. But Frank’s mom didn’t cut him off totally, which was nice. Thank god for small mercies. Mikey hated never getting to see Frank. Gabe hadn’t been able to make it, which he was none too pleased about. But he had a driving lesson that afternoon. He had already failed the test three times. He really needed the lessons. So it was just Frank and Mikey.

“Hey is Pete still out?” Frank asked.

“Mhm.”  
“He’s not talking to you?”

“No.”

“Good.” Mikey gave him an indignant look. “He’s bad news, man. You’re better off without him.”

“I dunno. I was kinda starting to like him,” Mikey said.

“He’s fucked up,” Frank said. 

Mikey didn’t argue.

“Do they make you pray everyday?” He said instead, “Like the pledge of allegiance.”

“Yeah,” Frank said, scrunching up his nose a bit.

“Weird.”

“Mhm. Hey, did Ray show you his new guitar?” Frank asked.

“No,” Mikey said.

“It’s fucking awesome. It’s this sweet Les Paul, sound’s so fucking dope, man,” Frank said. Frank loved talking guitars.

“I’ll ask him about it next time I see him.”

“You know, he and Gerard have been writing a lot of songs,” Frank said.

“Yeah they’ve shown me some,” Mikey said, “They were good. You think they’ll actually finish em?”

“I bet they will. Ray’s good at finishin shit.”

“Plus, when Gerard’s really into something, it’s like you can’t get him to think about anything else.”

“Yeah, they make a good team,” Frank said wistfully. Mikey could tell he was a little jealous. He knew Frank was always looking to start a band, he had been pestering Mikey since forever. Mikey would say yes, but he just really couldn’t be good with performing. It was a little too much for him. But, the way Frank talked about this, Mikey knew he wanted in.

“You should ask to play with em,” Mikey told him.  
“I don’t wanna get in their way…” Frank said.

“Just ask.”

“Yeah, alright Mikey. You drive a solid bargain, you’ve talked me into it,” Frank concluded, “But you gotta join too.”

“We talked about this, man.”

“Mikey c’mon. What’s a band without a bassist? Plus this way we can see each other more outside of school!”

Mikey sighed. He really just wanted to hang out with Frank.

“Fine.”

“Fuck yeah,” Frank beamed.

Maybe they wouldn’t even perform anywhere, Mikey thought to himself. Maybe they wouldn’t be able to get any gigs… no, that was bad too. Well, maybe performing really wouldn’t be that bad. Mikey would actually take to it, like Pete said. It could be cool.

Shit, he just wanted to see Frank.

Saturday morning, Mikey woke up. His clock said it was six. Which was weird cause it was a weekend, so usually he slept in until noonish. But he couldn’t fall back asleep, even though he felt like shit. After about a half an hour of trying, Mikey threw in the towel and got up. He was the first one awake, so the house was quiet. He went downstairs and made himself a cup of coffee. If he was going to be up that fucking early, he was gonna need a lot of caffeine. He sat in the living room with his coffee and turned on the TV. It was cued up to some channel his mom liked that only played cheesy sit-coms. But he didn’t really mind, he was just trying to distract himself from the fact that he was awake.

Apparently he did a pretty good job of that because before he knew it it was one in the afternoon, his coffee was gone, and Gerard had surfaced from his cave. 

“Hey Mikes,” He said on his way to the kitchen, “What’re ya watching?”

Mikey shrugged.

Gerard came back after a few minutes, two cups of coffee in hand. He sat beside Mikey on the sofa, handing him one of the mugs.

“Thanks,” Mikey said.

“No problem.” Gerard turned to the TV, taking a sip of his coffee and sinking back into the couch. “Seriously Mikey, what’re you watching?”

Mikey tuned into what was playing for the first time. There was an ugly looking monkey on the screen.

“...Harry and the Hendersons,” Mikey said with a grimace.

“Why?”

“I wasn’t really watching it,” Mikey said.

“Background noise. Gotcha,” Gerard said.

“Ya know, Frank wants to start a band,” Mikey said. It had been a few days since he and Frank had talked about that, but nothing had come of it yet. Mikey decided to push the issue, if only as a conversational topic.

“That’d be cool,” Gerard said, “He’s a good musician.”  
“Yeah. He wants in on you and Ray’s thing,” Mikey told his brother.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“Huh,” Gerard laughed, “We were thinking about asking him actually.”

“You probably still should. I think he’d appreciate it,” Mikey said.

“Alright. Sounds cool… Hey Mikey, did you want in too?” Gerard asked.

“I guess,” Mikey shrugged.

“We were gonna ask you too,” Gerard assured him, like he’d be offended if they hadn’t. Well, actually Mikey probably would be. But still, Gerard was being presumptuous. “You’re both perfectly welcome.”

“Sweet.”

Well that was that.

After a while, there was a knock on the door. Neither boy got up for a moment, looking at each other expectantly. After the second knock, Mikey gave in and walked to the front door begrudgingly. When he opened it, he was surprised to find Pete standing there shyly, looking like he’d run away any minute then. They stood there in silence for a moment.

“Uh,” Mikey said eloquently.

“Hey,” Pete said.

“Hey.”

“So… could I come in maybe?” Pete said, kicking at the ground a bit.

“Ok.”

He stepped out of the way as Pete entered. He looked uncomfortable. Real stiff. And he wasn’t making eye contact. He was quiet. Pete, quiet. Maybe he was dying.

“You wanna go up to my room?” 

Pete nodded. They walked through the living room and down the hall down to Mikey’s room. As they passed Gerard on the couch, he gave Mikey a look. He had told Gerard about Pete’s generally abnormal behavior. He had a similar attitude towards Pete as Frank did. He ignored Gerard. 

Mikey shut his door behind him, and silence fell over the boys again. Mikey stood waiting for Pete to speak, because hell if he knew what he was here for. Pete was just looking at the ground. Mikey took off his glasses and mimed cleaning them on his shirt. When he decided Pete wasn’t gonna start, he began with what he assumed he was there for.

“I’m sorry I ditched you.”

“Yeah. That kinda sucked,” Pete said.

“It did.”

“It’s funny, though. Isn’t it? Cause you thought I’d ditch you,” Pete said dryly.

“I’m sorry I said that.”

“I know.” Pete started playing with the zipper on his hoodie.

“I was drunk. I kinda forgot what I was doing,” Mikey explained.

“I know,” Pete repeated, “I’m not really mad about that.”

“You’re not?”

“I mean. It sucked but whatever. You wanted to have fun with that girl,” He shrugged.

“So why were you ignoring me then?” Mikey asked.

“I was out sick.”  
“I called.”

Pete shrugged again. He still hadn’t looked at Mikey. “It wasn’t personal. I didn’t really feel up to seeing anybody.”

“Andy said you were depressed,” Mikey said.

“He did?”

“Yeah,” Mikey said.

“Oh.” He didn’t look surprised.

“Were you?”

Pete shrugged.

“Uhm… I’m sorry. If you were,” Mikey offered.

“Thanks,” Pete mumbled.

“You know, you can talk to me. If you want. Gerard goes through this shit a lot. I do too sometimes. So… I get it,” Mikey said, “Just if you wanted.”

Pete looked up for the first time and gave Mikey a weak smile.

“Thanks, Mikeyway.”

Mikey’s new band had their first rehearsal the night of December twenty-third. They were all on Christmas break, so it was pretty easy to schedule. They didn’t have a drummer, and they didn’t have any idea where to get one. But they figured waiting to get a drummer before playing together was pointless. So they set up their equipment in the Way’s garage, sans a drummer, and that was that. It had been going pretty well, actually. A few hiccups, but overall they worked quite well together. The biggest issue was when Frank had knocked over Mikey half way through a song, because the kid was a fucking lunatic when he played, and the garage was definitely too small for that. Once Frank had toned it down a bit, it all went pretty smoothly.

They mostly did covers, shit like The Cure, Black Flag, Misfits. Mikey had insisted on doing a few off Melon Collie. He was still playing that record on repeat. They did a few of the songs Gerard and Ray had written too. Those took some time, Mikey and Frank had to figure out their own parts in that song, but by the end of it, they had them down. Mikey was surprised by how well it all worked. 

“That was sweet,” Gerard grinned as they packed up their gear.

“Totally,” Frank agreed, setting his guitar in its case, “Other than Mikey being a total klutz.”

Mikey flipped him off.

“I think we did really well,” Ray said. He was wrapping up the cable for his amp.

“We’ll be selling out shows in no time, no doubt,” Frank said.

They alternated between packing and small talk for a bit.

“You guys have any plans for the holidays?” Gerard asked at one point.

“Goin’ over Pete’s for New Year’s,” Mikey said.

“Mostly family shit,” Ray answered.

“My mom’s making us stay at my grandparents’ this year,” Frank said, “It’s gonna suck.”

“Sorry, Frank,” Gerard said.

When they were done, the Way brothers walked Frank and Ray out.

“See ya,” Gerard waved.

“Later,” Said Frank.

“Yeah, see ya,” Ray called.

Once they were gone, Gerard and Mikey headed inside.

Pete’s room was dim and hazy. It was almost midnight and he and Mikey had been smoking. It was a bit like being under a blanket fort. Warm and comfortable. All very serene. Mikey was sat on the floor, leaned up against Pete’s mattress. Pete had his head rested on his lap looking up at him as they talked. Since Pete had gone over Mikey’s, they had started hanging out again. Pete seemed to be doing better. Actually, he seemed happier than he had been since Mikey really started hanging out with him. It was nice.

“I think I’m gonna write a book…” Pete mused.

Mikey laughed, “About what?”  
“Dunno,” Pete said.

“Gonna write a book about nothing?”

“Best nothing you’ll ever read, bitch,” He affirmed.

“Dude,” Mikey said, giggling a little, “That makes no sense.”

“It makes sense. You’re just high.”

“You’re short.”

“You’re… fuck,” Pete slurred.

Mikey giggled again. 

“Shut up. Fuck. Shut up. You’re fucking annoying.”

“Being short is worse,” Mikey said matter of factly. 

Pete laughed and hit Mikey’s chest with the back of his hand half heartedly. 

“Annoying,” Pete murmured.

They were quiet for a bit. Pete reached up to play with Mikey’s hair, looking thoughtful. Mikey fidgeted with Pete’s hoodie strings. Pete always wore the ugliest hoodies. With the hush, the blanket fort feeling returned. It made Mikey feel cozy.

“Hey Mikey?” Pete asked quietly.

“Mm?” Mikey hummed.

“How come whenever we hang out we always gotta get high?”

Mikey was quiet for a beat, before saying, “I like you better high.”

As soon as it came out his mouth he knew it was wrong.

“Oh,” Pete said, slowly pulling his hand from Mikey’s head and sitting up. He curled up into himself a little and stared at his hands.

Mikey didn’t know why he had said it. He didn’t mean it. Sort of. It used to be true. Back when Pete was some massive erratic mess. But he was better now. Mikey genuinely just liked him. And most of the time when they hung out they did still get high, but it wasn’t really because Mikey didn’t want to be around Pete sober. It really wasn’t. Pete had… grown on him. He didn’t know why he said it.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, “That was mean.”

“Yeah…” Pete agreed. He leaned back against the mattress, pressed up beside Mikey. “Ya know, I think you’re really cool Mikeyway. I know I say it all the time, but it’s true. I like you a lot. Even if you only really like me high.”

Mikey didn’t know what to say to that. He kind of felt like shit. And he kind of felt like his heart was gonna jump out of his throat. He just stared at Pete. Pete looked up at him, with earnest eyes. Mikey didn’t know what to say-or what to do-so he just did the first impulse that came across him. He leaned in and kissed Pete.

He could hear his heart thumping in his chest and he felt hot. And kind of terrified. He had never felt like that kissing someone. He usually wasn’t anxious. But Pete was a guy. And that was terrifying. It was a bit better when Pete kissed him back. Mikey wasn’t sure how long the kiss was, he was too busy panicking to notice. Pete pulled back at some point.

“You don’t have to try and make me feel better, ya know,” He said.

“I wasn’t.”

They two boys looked at each other. Neither moved. Mikey wondered if he should kiss Pete again. But he was still freaking out over the first kiss. He thought he might explode if it happened again. He didn’t even know if he liked it. Or Pete. Mikey wasn’t gay. He knew that. He had never even doubted his straightness before that point. Not the tiniest bit. But now… He knew he hadn’t done it to make Pete feel better. It wasn’t a pity kiss. It was an impulse kiss. An impulse which he had no clue as to its origins.

“Are you buggin?” Pete asked.

“A little,” Mikey admitted.

“Me too.”

“I’m not gay,” Mikey told him.

“Me either,” Pete said.

“I don’t know why I did that.”

“Was it-Like… did you want to kiss me?” Pete asked.

Mikey thought about it. He really had no clue. Because he wasn’t gay. He liked girls. He had dated them, he had had sex with them. He liked girls. But if he thought about it, he definitely didn’t not like Pete. He wasn’t sure how far that went. He guessed he found him attractive. He liked his hair. And he liked being with Pete, as weird as he was. But he didn’t know what to make of that. So he thought, did he want to kiss Pete again? And well, yeah.

“I think so. Yeah.”

Pete nodded faintly.

“Did you-um, before?” Mikey didn’t want to say it.  _ Did you want to kiss me? _ He kind of hoped Pete didn’t understand. But he knew he would. What Gabe had said, about Pete being a bit more affectionate with him than friends were, it was true. Who was he kidding, Mikey had always known it was true.

“Yeah,” Pete said.

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

Pete laced his fingers with Mikey’s and the two boys sat silently, unsure of where to go from there. A weird way to start off the year. 1997 would definitely be something, Mikey thought. Pete seemed to be thinking something similar.

“Happy New Year’s, Mikeyway,” Pete said quietly after a while.

“Happy New Year’s, Pete.”


	7. No One Knows

When they came back from break, Mikey’s whole school seemed dead. It was pretty typical. The adjustment from staying home and sleeping until noon and doing nothing everyday to just being thrown back into the thick of normal life was awful. Mikey’s mother had actually had to drag him out of bed that morning. The weather was miserable too. It had snowed, but it was all grey and slushy by then. Instead of some winter wonderland, it was all just dreary and cold and exhausting.

Even Frank and Gabe seemed to be feeling it.

“It’s too much,” Gabe whined, “I’m already overwhelmed.”

“Class hasn’t even started,” Frank said.

“Yeah, and imagine how bad it’ll be when it does,” Gabe said.

“You’ll live,” Mikey said.

Gabe shook his head, “I’m not so sure.”

“Well, I’m happy to be back,” Frank said, “I’m gonna miss this place.”

“Really?” Mikey questioned.

“No. It’s bittersweet, I think.”

“Better than a fucking Catholic school,” Mikey said.

“At least our curriculum is post first century,” Gabe said.

“Barely,” said Mikey.

“Yeah, this school sucks,” Frank agreed, “Mostly I’m just gonna miss hanging out with you guys all the time.”

Mikey winced a bit at that. He had been trying not to think of it as of late. Frank was really gonna be gone soon. Less than a month from then, Frank would be off at St. Thomas’s, being taught creationism and getting smacked with rulers or whatever. He didn’t like how real it was getting.

“Ah, c’mon, don’t make me cry Frankie,” Gabe gushed.  
“Big baby,” Frank teased.

Gabe pulled Frank in for a hug, holding the semi-unwilling boy against his chest. Frank barely reached Gabe’s armpit.

“Stay safe, man. Stay away from priests.”

“Yeah, okay,” Frank said, trying-and failing-to pull away.

Mikey laughed a bit at his friends. They were a bunch of oafs, truly. 

“C’mon Mikey, you gotta get in here too,” Gabe said, waving Mikey over.

He shook his head, “I’ll watch.”

“Nope,” Gabe said, pulling Mikey in and forcing him to join the hug, “We’re having a moment. All of us.”

Well, Mikey was certainly having a moment. A kind of panicky moment. Because he was pressed up against Frank and Gabe, and it was sweet and intimate and blah blah blah. And they were guys. Mikey wasn’t sure what was happening with him, but he suddenly felt overly aware of other guys. It wasn’t like he was interested in them. He definitely wasn’t interested in his friends. But it was like, he had kissed Pete and he had no clue why. And it felt like everyone knew. And everyone would look at him. He felt like Gabe and Frank would know. That something about the hug would be off. Or he would say something, or… He felt like he was under a microscope. And if everyone knew then he’d be the gay kid. He wasn’t even gay. But that wouldn’t matter if everyone thought he was. And Gabe would want nothing to do with him. He’d never see Frank again. He would be beat up everyday. Pete would stop hanging out with him. He just felt like he was naked and it was written all over him.  _ I kissed Pete Wentz _ . And it was weird. Pete had always been affectionate with him, a little beyond that of two straight friends. But it had never bothered him. He had never even thought about it, because there was nothing to think about. It was just Pete. He was just out there. It wasn’t anything. But now it was something. And it was going to get out…  _ He had kissed Pete Wentz. _

Mikey scrambled to pull out of the hug.

“I need to go to class,’ He said.

“We still have five minutes,” Frank told him.

“I told Mrs. Harris I’d help set up some-some lab work…” Mikey lied. There was no lab that day. Not that Mikey would help set it up anyway. He hated physics.

“Dude, who are you?” Gabe said, looking puzzled.

“I just-,” Mikey stuttered, “I gotta go.”

With that, he walked off towards his physics class. He couldn’t believe, it was the first day back from break and he was showing up to fucking physics class early instead of hanging out with his friends. He really wasn’t himself. He sat in his seat, nervously drumming his fingers on his desk and staring out the window. It looked out to the parking lot. Grey and slushy.

At lunch, Mikey was quiet. Gabe and Frank had clearly noticed, and were prompting him to speak in more than monosyllabic responses.. He just poked at his ravioli with one of the shit plastic forks the school used. It was tiny in his hand.  
“Is something wrong Mikey?” Frank asked.

“No,” He said.

“You’re being really quiet,” Frank said.

“More than usual,” Gabe added.

“Tired.”

“You’re being weird,” Gabe stated.

“Tired,” Mikey repeated, getting a bit annoyed. He wished they’d just leave it.

“You kinda freaked earlier,” Frank said.

“I had class.”

“Mikey, can you just talk to us and stop being all bitchy?” Frank said.

“There’s nothing to talk about, I’m just tired,” He said. There was an edge to his voice, he knew it.

“Mikey-” Frank started, but was interrupted by Gabe.

“Don’t bother with him, Frankie,” He said, “He’s not gonna give.”

Frank pulled back a bit, frowning and running a hand through his hair. Mikey felt bad, really, for being such a dick. He knew he was ruining the mood, and he was upsetting his friends. But he just couldn’t be normal then. He just felt exposed. And caged in.

Things only got worse when Pete decided to make an appearance. He squeezed himself between Mikey and Frank on the bench and Mikey felt his stomach turn at the thought of Pete being so close.

“Mikeyway, what’s up?” He greeted, kissing Mikey on the cheek, like always. 

Mikey felt sick. He couldn’t say anything. He thought if he opened his mouth he would just throw up.

“He’s not gonna talk to you,” Gabe stated, “He’s in a mood.”

“Is everything okay?” Pete asked Mikey. Mikey could feel Pete’s hand on his lower back.

“I’m fine,” Mikey said. At least he hadn’t puked. Yet.

“He’s been wiggy since this morning,” Frank said.

“I’m not wiggy,” Mikey denied, “Just leave it alone. Jesus.”

The table stopped talking for a beat.

Pete leaned in and, quietly, he said, “Is this about-”

Mikey shot him a look and Pete shut up. He didn’t want Pete to be talking about it. Not ever. He didn’t want anyone to hear.

“About what?” Frank chimed in.

“Nothing. I need some air,” Mikey said, standing up and leaving the cafeteria. He heard Gabe mutter, “Well that wasn’t suspicious at all”. Mikey ignored him. He made it a little ways down the empty hall before he heard footsteps following. He turned and saw Pete as he jogged up to him. Of course. He looked concerned. Brows furrowed the tiniest bit, and eyes wide, and god Mikey hated that he thought he looked cute just then. Fucking cute.

“Mikey, Hey,” Pete said, “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Mikey said.

“Is this about New Year’s?” Pete asked.

“I’m fine,” Mikey repeated.

Pete frowned, taking a step towards him. “Mikey, what happened-”  
“Pete, don’t-”

“No, Mikey, what happened… I get that it was kinda freaky. I’m freaking too. But no one else knows. And they aren’t gonna. It’s okay. You don’t gotta act so paranoid,” Pete said.

“I’m not paranoid,” Mikey said.

“You’re being cagey. Not just with me, with Frank and Gabe too. They don’t know, you don’t have to worry,” Pete said, “But the more people see you panic the more they’re gonna wonder.”

Mikey nodded slowly. He knew. He knew that acting out wouldn’t help him. But he couldn’t help it. He felt like he was just on high alert. Any moment he’d slip up.

“No one is gonna know,” Pete assured him.

Mikey nodded again. No one knew. No one was gonna know. Pete wouldn’t tell anyone. Mikey wouldn’t tell anyone. It’d be like it never even happened. He told himself that over and over until he felt that he was maybe starting to believe it. Shit, he was fucking drained. With a sigh, he leaned back against the lockers and slid onto the floor. Pete sat beside him.

“I feel like every time we start getting close, one of us has to do some stupid shit,” Mikey said.

“Yeah. But we’re still friends. That’s something isn’t it?” Pete said.

Mikey hummed in agreement. He wondered if they really were friends. They were so turbulent with each other. And friends didn’t kiss. But, at the very least, he wanted to be friends. He thought back to the first time they hung out-really hung out-when Pete had taken him to that pizza place. “Bass bros,” He mumbled.

Pete beamed. “Bass bros,” He confirmed.

“Do you regret it?” Mikey asked.

“Regret what?”

“The um. The kiss,” Mikey said quietly.

“No,” Pete said, “Do you?”

Mikey shook his head. He didn’t regret it. It terrified him, and it made him feel sick. He didn’t regret it though. Because every time he asked himself, would he do it again? The answer was yes.

Neither boy said anything for a minute. Mikey was unsure of what they were even doing. Because they had kissed. Mikey wanted to kiss him again. He didn’t know what Pete wanted. He knew Pete didn’t regret it. He knew Pete had wanted to kiss him. And Mikey didn’t regret it. But they weren’t gay. And so Mikey didn’t know what it meant that they had kissed. If it would happen again, regardless of what Mikey wanted. He didn’t know if it was just a bit of fun, or if he liked Pete, or he was just losing his mind. He had even less of a clue what Pete was doing in all of this. Maybe he meant it. Maybe it was just another one of his weird stunts. He really just didn’t know.

“How much longer is lunch?” Pete asked.

“Ten minutes?” Mikey guessed.

“You wanna go make out in the janitor’s closet?” Pete asked.

Before Mikey even thought about it, he said, “Okay.”

The two boys stood and started off to the janitor’s closet. Mikey had absolutely no fucking clue what was going on.

Gerard had promised to pick Mikey up from school that day, but he was late. It was pretty typical, Mikey wasn’t stressing over it. Actually, he was kind of thankful. After his talk with Pete he had calmed down a bit. He was still absolutely paralyzed with fear, but Pete was right. He needed to keep it to himself and just be normal. Which meant he also had to apologize to Gabe and Frank. He had hunted them down once their last class had ended. He found them in the sitting library by the window, like they did whenever Frank’s mother was late to pick him up. He didn’t know how he was going to explain himself without explaining his and Pete’s… thing. But he had to say something. With a hard swallow, he walked up to them, trying desperately to gather up his courage. 

“Uh. What’s up guys?” He said awkwardly.

They turned to look at Mikey. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable just standing there. Lotta pressure.

“Are you talking again?” Gabe said wryly. He could be bitchy sometimes, but Mikey couldn’t blame him. He knew he was having trouble dealing with Frank leaving, having his other friend freeze him out probably wasn’t a big hoot.

Frank gave Gabe a disapproving look. “Are you feeling better, Mikey?”

“Yeah,” Mikey nodded, “Yeah. Look, I’m sorry about earlier.”

“What was going on?” Frank asked.

Mikey internally groaned at the inevitable question, “I don’t-I can’t really explain it. I’m sorry, but I’m not-I’m not ready to talk about it. I just had something that was really messing with me and I took it out on you guys. But I’m mostly over it now, I guess. So, I’m sorry.”

“It’s cool man,” Frank said, “We get it. Life and shit. We’re just glad you’re talking again.”

Gabe nodded, his grouchy disposition fading. “We’re all good,” He agreed.

“Thanks,” Mikey said.

“Do we hug now?” Gabe said.

“I think we’re too manly,” Frank said.

“No,” Gabe frowned, “I think we hug now. Manly hug.”

He stood up and wrapped Mikey into a hug. Frank swooped in and joined, despite his earlier opposition. As their (still male) bodies closed in around him, Mikey felt the same rush of panic he had that morning. Like he was naked again. But he tried to look past it and focused on the nice, normal part of the hug. It wasn’t some test, or a trap he reminded himself. It was Frank and Gabe showing friendly affection. His friends still loved him. They forgave him. They didn’t know. No one knew. No one ever would know. Everything was okay.

They pulled away and Mikey could hear the thump of his heartbeat loud.

“Gerard’s probably here…” He said. He didn’t want them to think he was running off again. He really did need to go with his brother. And he was a bit freaked.

“We’ll see you,” Gabe nodded and Frank hummed in agreement.

“Ok. Thanks guys. For being so cool,” Mikey said, before turning to leave. He felt a bit of a weight lifted off his chest. He walked down the halls to the entrance of the school to find Gerard. As he went, he saw Pete talking loudly with a group of kids that Mikey was fairly sure he didn’t even know. He was too engrossed in his conversation to notice Mikey as he walked by, so he didn’t say hello to him. It was okay, Mikey got it. Pete didn’t shut that stuff off around other people. He had to be that larger than life guy for people. Mikey didn’t like it so much, but he got it.

Outside, Gerard waited in his tiny, beat up, old car. Mikey got in on the passenger side, throwing his bag in the back. The Cure was playing on Gerard’s radio and inside smelled like cigarettes. There was a carton on the middle console and Mikey swiped one of Gerard’s smokes.

As he buckled up, Gerard asked, “How was school?”

“It was fine,” Mikey shrugged, digging his lighter from his jeans pocket and lighting the cigarette. He thought for a moment about telling Gerard about… just the things that had been going on with him. And Pete. If there was anyone he could talk to about it, it was Gerard after all. And it was kind of burning him up inside. Having all this shit that he couldn’t tell anyone about because that would mean telling them about the feelings he was having towards another boy. He was used to bottling up, but this was so bizarre to him. But Gerard might get it. He had always been a little out there. Mikey wasn’t calling him gay. Just, Gerard was so open about who he was. He wore makeup for Christ’s sake. Regardless of his sexuality, Gerard had to have some sympathy towards Mikey’s situation. And he was his brother. He told him everything.

Mikey just needed help.

“Hey Gee,” He said, “ Can I talk to you about something?”

“Sure,” Gerard said, pulling out of the parking lot.

“I had a fight today, with Frank and Gabe. It wasn’t anything serious. They thought I was avoiding them or acting cagey or something. And we worked it out but…” Mikey paused, not knowing where to go from there.

“But?” Gerard prompted.

“But I didn’t really tell them why I was being weird. Because like, it’s-it’s intense. And I don’t want them to think I’m like, different or hate me or… But I feel like I gotta talk about it because I have no idea what’s happening.”

“What’s up, Mikes?”

“I kissed Pete,” Mikey said, “And I don’t know what it means. And I’m not gay, but all of the sudden it feels like everything I do just… it’s like everyone just knows what I did and I feel like the world is caving in on me. And I tried to talk to Pete about it, and he said acting out was just gonna make it worse and that I should just, like, keep my shit to myself and no one would notice. But I don’t think I can just never talk about it. I have no clue what I’m doing and it’s freaking me out. I don’t want people to know. But I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“You don’t need to freak out, Mikey, it’s totally normal. Not crazy,” Gerard said.

“It is?”

“Yeah. Plenty of people experiment. I did. If you end up being into guys, that’s fine, if you don’t it’s fine too,” Gerard said, “You don’t need to know why you feel that way. Just embrace it and figure it out as you go. You don’t have to tell anyone if you don’t want, but it isn’t a bad thing, okay Mikey?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Just live your life, man. And ya know, I’m sure Frank and Gabe would be total cool if they did know. They’re pretty good guys,” Gerard said.  
“I know,” Mikey sighed, “It’s just scary.”

“It is,” Gerard agreed, “And I’m glad you were able to tell me. I always wanna be here for you, okay man?”

“Yeah.” Mikey gave his brother a grateful smile.

“I love you Mikes.”  
“Love you too Gee.”

There was quiet in the car for a bit. Just the radio.

That quiet was broken when Gerard said, “So. Pete, huh?”

“Pete,” Mikey confirmed.

“You like him?”

“I think so,” Mikey said, playing with his shirt a bit.

“You think he likes you?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good, Mikey,” Gerard said, “That’s good.”

“I’m not really sure what we’re doing, though,” Mikey told him.  
“Have you asked?” Gerard said, turning onto their road.

“No. I’m not sure I’m ready to know what he wants,” Mikey said.

“Figure it out as you go.”

They pulled into the driveway, and the brothers got out of the car. Gerard pulled Mikey into a tight hug before they went inside. Mikey was getting hugged left and right that day, it seemed. It was okay though. He felt better, sort of, after talking with Gerard. He was by no means comfortable with the idea that he was into another guy. He could barely even admit that he was. But it was nice to know that, if he ever did admit it, it wouldn’t always be awful. Kind of like that post-crying feeling you got in your stomach, almost numb. It wasn’t like you felt good, but the intense period was over. For the time at least. Mikey felt like he was just able to breathe a little. No one knew, and no one was going to know. Except Gerard, but that was okay. Because no one else knew.


	8. Sober

Thursday afternoon, Mikey was in his room, reading a comic Gerard had been working on. It had been three days since Mikey had had his little outburst and things had more or less gone back to normal. Aside from Mikey and Pete’s frequent trips to the janitor’s closet, which were new. It wasn’t just the janitor’s closet, of course. Sometimes it was out behind the school or in Pete’s car. And Mikey had nicked a few pills from Gerard, which helped numb the rush of anxiety he felt every time Pete was around him.

That also led to a lot more of his time being taken up by Pete. Outside of school, Pete was almost always either with him or calling him. He felt bad, he had had to cancel plans with Frank and Gabe, which they had seemed pretty bummed about. Mikey figured it wouldn’t matter in the long run. He and Pete were just in some weird friends with benefits honeymoon phase. It’d be over soon. He’d get it out of his system. Definitely.

It was about five o’ clock and he was just getting to the climax of the comic when he heard a tap on his window. Then another tap. He tossed the comic down on the bed and got up to check outside. Through the window, he saw Gabe standing out in his front yard, up to his ankles in snow and grinning widely with a handful of pebbles. Mikey opened the window and leaned out.

“What’re you doing Gabe?” He asked the boy.

“Coming to pick you up,” Gabe said, “Me, you, and Frankie are gonna hang out.”

“Since when?”

“Since you blew us off last time. So get off your ass and get moving Mikey!”

Mikey shut his window and hurried to the front door. He pulled on a pair of worn out combat boots and grabbed his coat off its hook, before heading off into the cold.

“Why didn’t you come to the door?” Mikey asked as Gabe hopped through the snow to meet him.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Gabe said.

“Your legs are wet,” Mikey pointed out. Gabe’s sneakers and the bottoms of his jeans were soaked and covered in little chunks of ice.

“Doesn’t matter,” Gabe said, waving him off, “Car’s got heating. I’ll be dry in no time.”

“Car?”

Gabe pointed out to the curb in front of Mikey’s house, where his mother’s minivan was parked in all its glory.

“Mom’s letting me borrow it. I got my license yesterday,” Gabe explained proudly.

“And you didn’t fucking tell us? Bullshit.”

Gabe pulled out a little card from his pocket, holding up a legitimate license for Mikey to see. 

“Wanted it to be a surprise. Besides, you’ve been Mr. No Show lately. Now get in, we still need to pick up Frankie.”

The ride to Frank’s house was only about seven minutes. Mikey tried not to feel completely petrified by Gabe’s reckless driving. He informed Mikey that he had ‘barely passed’ his driving test which wasn’t actually very comforting to hear. When they got to Frank’s, Gabe executed the same plan to grab Frank’s attention as he had back at Mikey’s, pulling his pebbles from his pocket and chucking them at Frank’s bedroom window. After a minute, Frank came bounding down the front steps and hopped into the back of the van, Gabe following soon after. Frank sat in the middle seat, leaning forward so he was more incorporated into the front where his friends were. Gabe began driving again. He put on some hip hop that Mikey was entirely unfamiliar with.

“So where are we going?” Frank asked.

“I got a gift card to Manny’s for Hanukkah,” Gabe said, referring to the diner on the outskirts of town where they sometimes ate at. It was a cool place, all retro, and had great milkshakes. They hadn’t been in a while though.

“Sweet,” Mikey said.

“I’m gonna eat so much fucking pie,” Frank beamed.

“It’s only like, twenty five bucks, Frankie,” Gabe said.

“I have like, twelve in my pocket,” Frank said.

They pulled into the diner parking lot. Frank was bouncing with excitement like a little kid. Gabe and Mikey followed him in at a more subdued pace. They sat in their usual booth, in the corner of course. Mikey always picked the corner seats. Gabe sat by himself in a seat, because he liked to stretch out his legs. Mikey was considered to have pretty long legs, but Christ, Gabe was like a fucking giraffe. Plus he bounced his leg so goddamn much it made the whole seat shake. Mikey and Frank sat across from him in the booth. They all shrugged off their coats and got comfortable.

Their waitress brought over their menus and they mimed looking them over. They already knew what they’d get. They always got the same thing. A veggie burger, a slice of apple pie, and a Coke for Frank, a steak and cheese sub with a strawberry shake for Gabe, and a grilled cheese and chocolate shake for Mikey.

After they ordered, they talked and waited for their meals to be ready.

“When was the last time we came here?” Frank asked.

“September, I think,” Mikey said.

“Yeah, after that football game where Tony Marrapecce got that concussion and they had to take him to the hospital,” Gabe agreed.

“Was that the guy who beat me up?” Frank asked.

“No,” Gabe said, “That was his brother. Mark.”

“Oh, yeah. Fuck that guy,” Frank said.

“That was a good time, though,” Mikey said.

“When I got beat up?” Frank asked.

“No, after the game.”

“Why’d we stop coming here?” Frank questioned.

“You got drunk and threw your pie up,” Gabe said, “And then you didn’t wanna go back cause you had PTSD from it.”

“And we just sorta forgot after that,” Mikey shrugged.

Frank chuckled a little, “That sounds right.”

The waitress came back and passed around their drinks. Coke for Frank, chocolate shake for Gabe, and Strawberry shake for Mikey. The two boys switched their shakes once she had left again.

“If you guys wanna sneak in after this, I stole some vodka from my grandparents over break,” Frank said, sipping his drink.

“You still have that dumb curfew?” Gabe asked.

“Mhm.”

“Lame.”

“Well, I’m in,” said Mikey.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Gabe agreed.

“Alright. Just drop me off and I’ll let you in through the window.”

After another ten minutes or so of waiting, their food came out and they dug right in. Frank wolfed down his veggie burger and moved straight on to his apple pie before Mikey or Gabe were even half way through their meals. The food was good. Mikey forgot how good Manny’s was. They really shouldn’t have stopped going. Stupid Frank. 

When they were finished, they paid their bill. They could barely afford to tip, even with Frank’s extra twelve bucks. Then Gabe drove them to Frank’s house. Frank got out and went inside through the front door, like a normal person entering their house. Totally innocent. Then Gabe drove the car a little farther up the road and he and Mikey got out. They walked back to Frank’s and waited by his window for a bit. It was getting dark early so they didn’t need to be especially sneaky. Mikey’s feet were getting wet and cold standing in the snow. 

After a few minutes, Frank popped open his window and they hauled themselves through it, Gabe first and then Mikey, trying to be as quiet as possible. Once they were in, they kicked off their soaked shoes and shed their coats, then collapsed on the unmade bed while Frank rifled around his dresser for the vodka. Once he found it, he took a swig, and then moved to turn on his radio, blasting the music as loud as he could without getting a noise complaint from his mother.

He passed the bottle to Mikey before flopping down beside him. After Mikey had downed a sizable amount of the drink he handed the bottle to Gabe.

“Frankie, you got a chaser?” Gabe asked.

“Pussy,” Frank replied.

“Sorry I’m not as depraved as you two,” Gabe said, “I’d just rather not drink straight vodka.”

Frank groaned, but got up and went out to the kitchen. He came back with a liter jug of 7 up, handing it to Gabe and saying, “Here you go, Princess.”

“Thank you, Frankie,” Gabe replied sweetly, taking a drink from the vodka, then the soda. 

He passed both bottles over to Frank. Frank made a point of not drinking the chaser. Mikey drank the soda when the bottle was passed to him. He wasn’t trying to make a point like Frank. He was just trying to get shitfaced.

“So,” Gabe said, “You guys still doin’ that band?”  
“Yep. We sound fucking awesome” Frank said.

“Still no drummer, though,” Mikey added.

“Eh, I’m sure you’ll find one,” said Gabe, downing some more vodka and soda.

Mikey swiped the bottle for him and said, “Probably. Ray knows a lot of people.”

“So do I,” Frank said indignantly. Mikey shrugged.

“I bet once you guys start doing shows you’ll start getting a lot of girls,” Gabe laughed.

Frank took another drink from the bottle, still stubbornly refusing to drink the 7 up.

“God I hope. St. Thomas’s is gonna be such a fucking drag man. No girls? Like, why am I going to school if I’m not gonna see girls?” Frank groaned, running a hand through his hair.

“Seriously Frankie, I’m sure if you ask nicely some pretty little alter boy will put out,” Gabe said. Frank giggled, passing the bottle to Gabe. Mikey felt himself freeze up a little bit. It was just a joke. Not even a mean one. He tried to shake it off, not wanting to be obvious that it put him on edge. Maybe Pete was right, he was a little paranoid.

“Oh hey, Mikey,” Frank said suddenly, “What happened with you and that girl?”

Of course talking about girls had to lead to talking about Mikey and girls.

“What girl?” Mikey asked. 

“The one from Gabe’s party?”

“Oh, Jessica?” Mikey shrugged, “Nothing. It was just a hookup.”

“Back into the game and right back out,” Gabe said sadly.

“Is there anyone you’re into, though?” Frank questioned. Nosy bastard.

“Jesus Christ, are we fourteen year old girls now?” Mikey said, feeling a bit defensive just then, “You wanna talk about our crushes?”

“You never tell us anything,” Frank whined.

“Mikey, dude. You really need those groupies right now,” Gabe laughed, handing Mikey the bottle.

“Whatever,” He said, chugging as much vodka down as he could without gagging or running out of air.

“Mikey, slow down,” Frank said, giggling along with Gabe.

After a while, the boys were sufficiently drunk and it was getting late. Frank kicked them out at one, saying that if kept blaring his music his mom would come in to yell at him, and then they’d all be fucked. Mikey and Gabe gathered their stuff and stumbled out the window into the snow. They walked back down the street to Gabe’s car. Once it was in sight, Gabe stopped.

“Oh shit!” He moaned, throwing his hands up in exacerbation, “We didn’ think this through.”

“Huh?”

“’M fuckin drunk as shit, man, I can’t drive right now! I just got my fuckin license,” Gabe slurred.

“Oh…” Drunk. Yeah. Mikey noted to himself that the world was kind of spinning.

“We’ll have to… have to sleep in the car,” He said.

Mikey grunted in agreement, slipping into the passenger side. Gabe sprawled himself out across the backseat. It was kind of uncomfortable, but Mikey was far too drunk to care. Clearly so was Gabe, because within five minutes he was snoring. It didn’t take Mikey long to follow suit.

When they woke up the next morning Mikey felt like shit. His mouth felt dryer than a fucking desert and it was far too bright out. When he looked out the window he was getting snow blindness which, paired with the killer headache he had, was fucking hell.

“Fuckin time is it?” Gabe murmured as he started to wake, voice still sleep heavy.

“Uh…” Mikey said, looking at the clock on the dashboard, “10:18.”

“We missed third period,” Gabe said.

“You’re planning on going to school? I feel like shit,” Mikey groaned.

“You look like shit,” Gabe said.

Mikey checked himself out in the side mirror. His hair was messy and pressed up against the side of his face, and his eyes were red. He looked back at Gabe.

“You’re not any better.”

“Whatever,” Gabe said, crawling upfront to the driver’s seat and bumping his ass into Mikey’s face, who let out an irritated sound.

“You think you’re alright to drive?” Mikey asked. Gabe looked like a massive wreck, and he probably still couldn’t pass a breathalyzer test.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” He said, starting the car.

They drove in silence, because talking was a headache. Gabe was squinting at the road the whole time. Why that day had to be the one day in January with any goddamn sun showing was a mystery. And a cruel one. Gabe brought them to Mikey’s house. Mikey agreed to let him sleep it off at his, since his mother wasn’t home and Gerard wouldn’t care. They crashed onto Mikey’s bed the second they got in the room.

“We really didn’t think this through,” Mikey mumbled.

“Nope. It was fun though. Before the hangover.”

“Yeah. Wish Frank was here,” Mikey said, “Suffering through it with us. I miss him.”  
“Frank’s great,” Gabe mumbled, already starting to fall asleep.

“You think his mom’ll find out?”  
“No way,” Gabe said, “He’ll just say he’s sick like always. His shit immune system is a blessing.”

“’M sure he feels that way too,” Mikey chuckled.

Gabe nodded into Mikey’s pillow, “Yeah, now shut up. Gotta sleep.”

At two, there was a knock on the door. Mikey had just gotten out of the shower when he heard it. He threw on a pair of pajama pants and an Anthrax T shirt a few sizes too small and went to the foyer.

“Hey Mikeyway,” Pete said cheerily when Mikey opened the door.

“Hi Pete,” Mikey said, wincing a bit at Pete’s general loudness.

“I was worried when you didn’t show today. Wanted to check in on you,” Pete said, stepping through the entry to stand closer to Mikey. He began playing with the hem of Mikey’s shirt.

“I’m alright. Bad hangover,” Mikey explained.

“On a Friday morning? Weekend started early?” Pete laughed.

“Fuck off,” Mikey said.

Pete smiled and said, “Can I hang?”

Mikey pursed his lip a bit, looking over his shoulder. Gabe was still asleep in his room. But that shouldn’t be a problem. There was nothing wrong with him hanging out with Pete, he did it all the time. Gabe wouldn’t find it suspicious. Them hanging out.

“Yeah,” He said.

Pete made it the rest of the way into the house and Mikey shut the door behind him.

“You want me to make you some coffee?” Pete asked, “No offense man, but you kinda look dead.”

“Coffee’d be great, thanks,” Mikey said.

They headed into the kitchen where Pete began making the drink while Mikey sat at the counter and watched. Pete had been over a few times, but had yet to become familiar with the kitchen layout. Mikey had to guide him through; coffee grounds and filters were third cupboard from the right of the fridge, mugs one to the left, coffee maker by the sink. Mikey thought it might have just been easier to make the coffee himself, but Pete seemed eager to be helping. 

“So,” Pete said, setting up the filter and shoveling the grounds in, “Fun night?”

“Frank had some vodka,” Mikey said.

“Explains why Frank wasn’t in school either. Gabe too?” Pete asked, pouring water in the coffee maker.

“Yeah, he’s in my room right now,” Mikey told him. 

Pete turned on the machine. “Ah.”

“We had to sleep in his car. Once we sobered up a little we just crashed here.”  
“ _Very_ fun night,” Pete said, turning from the pot to face Mikey, “You wanna have another fun night?”

“What’d you have in mind?” Mikey asked.

“My band’s got a show tonight. You should come if you’re feeling better,” Pete said.

“Sounds good,” Mikey said, giving Pete a small smile. He hadn’t seen Pete’s band live. Pete had invited him plenty of times but there were always things getting in the way of going. Like back in December, Pete had asked him to go, but then before he left for the show Mikey got food poisoning and spent the whole night puking. And then a week later Gerard forced him to watch a Star Wars marathon, which usually Mikey wouldn’t mind but it was just terrible timing. And he was worried Pete would start to think he was making up excuses not to go.

“Great,” Pete said, smiling back at Mikey.

When the coffee was ready, Pete poured it out into the mug.

“Milk or sugar?”

“I like it black,” Mikey said.

Pete brought him the mug, putting it down in front of him, before taking the seat next to Mikey at the counter. Mikey took a sip. It was hot, but not bad. He downed another sip. Pretty quickly, he had finished half the cup.

“Thanks,” He said to Pete.

“No problem, Mikeyway.” 

Mikey took another drink, and could feel Pete’s eyes on him. When he pulled the cup back, he felt Pete’s hand cup his face and tilt it towards him. Pete leaned in to kiss him then, but Mikey pulled back.

“Gabe-”

“Gabe isn’t here,” Pete told him, hand still on his face.

“He’s gonna wake up,” Mikey said.

“We’ll hear him,” Pete countered.

Mikey thought it over a bit before relenting. Pete was right. Gabe wouldn’t be able to just sneak up on them. Or teleport into the room. It was fine… The two boys kissed there, in Mikey’s kitchen. Shit, in Mikey’s house. With Gabe just down the hall. It was not fine. Pete brought his hand up to the back of Mikey’s head, gripping his hair. His mouth was warm, tasted like Pete. Mikey was used to it. He liked it. He had decided that a while ago. Not much of a point in wondering when it kept happening. There were still plenty of other things to wonder anyway. He tried to take Gerard’s advice and not wonder, just go with it. It had made it easier. And so did the pills.

Mikey felt a bit bad. Because he still couldn’t be around Pete sober. Before, it was Pete. He didn’t like Pete sober. He made sure they were always high when they hung out. Then, when he and Pete started getting closer, and saw much more of each other, Mikey realized Pete actually wasn’t so bad without drugs. He could be just as cool. Mikey was really warming up to him. And then they kissed. And suddenly, he couldn’t stand being near the guy without drugs. It wasn’t Pete this time. Pete was the same as ever. It was Mikey. It was the panic he felt every time he was near Pete. He had to drown it out. He knew it wouldn’t go away. If he stopped kissing Pete it would still be there, because now he knew it was inside him-whatever _it_ was. It probably wouldn’t stop even if he stopped seeing Pete altogether. And truthfully, he didn’t want to stop seeing Pete, or stop kissing him. Because he liked it. Those weren’t a part of the problem that Mikey was trying to calm, it was him.

And then there was the sound of someone walking coming from the hall. Mikey abruptly pulled away, to which Pete made no protest, thankfully. Mikey’s face burned and he could feel his heart in his throat. He hid his face in his coffee as Gabe stumbled into the kitchen looking pretty lousy. He thought he might throw up.

“You got any coffee left?” Gabe asked.

“There’s some in the pot,” Pete choked out, still gathering himself after Gabe’s interruption.

“Thanks, man,” Gabe said, unperturbed by the other boy’s unexplained presence or the discomfort in the air, grabbing himself a mug from the cupboard and pouring himself some coffee. Gabe was far better acquainted with the Way’s kitchen than Pete. Gabe settled down beside Mikey, who was sitting stiff as a board.

“So, Pete’s here? You guys are attached at the hip I swear” Gabe said, then realizing Pete was, in fact, there.

“He’s visiting,” Mikey said quickly.

“Wanted to make sure Mikey was okay,” Pete further explained, “Since he was out.”

“Were you gonna check in on me too?” Gabe asked, mocking indignancy.

“Nope.”

“Wow I see,” Gabe said, “I’m just not as special to you as Mikey.”

“Sorry man, Mikey is just my mirror soul,” Pete shrugged. Mikey hated that he had said that.

“I thought that was Patrick,” Gabe responded.

“It’s a complicated mirror.”

“I’ll bet.” Gabe took a long drink from his mug before saying, “Mikey, shower?”

Mikey nodded, and his friend headed off back down the hall to the bathroom. Mikey let out a deep breath and sank back in his seat.

“Fuck,” He groaned.

Pete laughed, “That scare you a bit Mikeyway?”

“Dick,” Mikey said, pushing Pete’s shoulder.

“It was fun, all clandestine,” Pete said.

“You get off on freaking me out?”

Pete gave him an impish smirk and Mikey just laughed tiredly to himself. It was nerve wracking, but he had to admit, Pete was right. It felt a bit thrilling afterwards.

“Well, I should head out,” Pete said, standing, “I'm supposed to meet up with the guys. Tonight, though?”

“I’m there,” Mikey replied.

“Good,” Pete said, giving Mikey a quick peck on the cheek before showing himself out. As he opened the door, he called, “Eight O’clock, The Wall. I’ll see ya Mikeyway!” And then he was gone.

Mikey had been waiting for six minutes in the car for Gerard to come out. He was starting to get impatient. If his brother wasn’t out soon, Mikey thought, he might just drive himself to the show. Not really though. He didn’t have his license, and really he’d like to actually survive the ride to the club. But still, Gerard was being slow and it was a real inconvenience. Finally though, his brother walked out the front door, bundled up in a black coat and a grey striped scarf. He climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car, thank christ.

“It’s almost eight,” Mikey complained.

“It’s fine,” Gerard said, “It’ll only take, like, fifteen minutes.”

“The show starts at eight,” Mikey said.

“I’m sure Pete won’t mind you being a couple minutes late. Besides, that shit never starts on time,” Gerard assured him.

Mikey just grunted in admission. Thankfully, Gerard was right, and the show had only just kicked off when they arrived. The place they were playing, The Wall, was pretty packed and very loud. A little dank and seedy, but Mikey was into it. Outside, there were posters promoting that night’s ‘Fall Out Boy’ show, which Mikey vaguely recalled Pete telling him their name was. Gerard had his fake ID on him, but Mikey was stuck with a big black ‘x’ drawn on his hand, meaning no booze. He figured he could just bum some off Gerard. He’d need it. His hangover was mostly gone, but a little hair of the dog couldn’t hurt. 

He saw Pete up on stage with the rest of his band. It looked like they had just started a song, and Pete hadn’t noticed them come in, too busy thrashing along the stage. Mikey wondered if he could even play at the same time. Gerard headed to the bar while Mikey pushed through the crowd to get closer to the stage. He wanted a good view of Pete and sitting in the back the whole gig would have been boring. What was a show without a dozen people knocking you back and forth with no regard for an hour? Shit, that’s what. The first few songs they played, Mikey really enjoyed. They were quite good musicians. Even if they hadn’t been, Mikey would have probably had a good time. A show was a show to him. Music, dancing, everything was good. Gerard met up with him at some point, two beers in hand, one of which he gave to Mikey.

“They’re good,” Gerard shouted into Mikey’s ear.

“Yeah,” Mikey shouted back.

“Pete’s sure got a lotta energy, huh?”

Mikey nodded. Pete on stage was a lot like Pete at school. All over the place, demanding attention. He was throwing himself all over the floor, jumping on and off amps, and throwing his bass around himself every now and then. He was definitely into performing. No way Mikey would ever be able to do that.

The other guys were good showmen too, though a great deal more controlled. And Andy was really a remarkable drummer… His band still didn’t have a drummer. They couldn’t do a show like that without one.

The whole night was fun. Mikey had a few beers, which Gerard was eager to remind Mikey were not pro bono. The music was excellent. It was nice to spend time with his brother too. It wasn’t like they didn’t see each other often, they lived together. But they didn’t go out so much. It was mostly horror movie marathons. Band practice had shaken things up a bit, but going out for a night with Gerard was a rare treat.

After the set ended and Pete’s band had gotten everything packed, they met up with Mikey and Gerard at the back of the venue. They all looked decently buzzed and extremely sweaty from their performance. Pete practically jumped on top of Mikey when he saw him. It was like having a big wet dog charge you.

“That was really good,” Gerard said to the group.

“Ah, thanks man,” Patrick said, blushing faintly. Or maybe it was just from the show.

“You’re Mikey’s brother right?” Joe asked.

“Gerard, yeah,” He confirmed.

“Joe,” He introduced.

“Patrick,” Added the boy beside him, “And that’s Andy. And you know Pete.”

“Good to meet you all,” Gerard said.

“You guys really were awesome,” Mikey added, feeling like he needed to be more courteous, “Pete’s been talking you guys up for a while.”

“Were you doing original songs?” Gerard asked.

“Yeah,” Patrick said.

“They’re fucking awesome. We’ve been writing some songs, but I don’t think we’ve gotten the swing of it yet, you guys sound like you have it down,” Gerard said.

“Mikey and his brother are in a band too,” Pete told his friends.

“No shit,” Patrick said, “You guys have anything coming up? I’d love to see you play.”

“No, we don’t perform right now,” Gerard said.

“No drummer,” Mikey said.

“Borrow Andy,” Joe said.

“Or Patrick. He can drum,” Pete added excitedly.

“We can totally sub in for you guys until you get a drummer,” Patrick offered them. Andy gave a small nod in agreement.

“Shit, thanks,” Gerard said.

They went on talking music for a while. Gerard seemed to be getting along well, which was nice to see. Pete pulled Mikey off to the side a bit while the others were too engrossed in the conversation to notice.  
“So, what’d ya think?” He asked, leaning in close so Mikey could hear him.

“You guys were awesome,” Mikey told him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re the best Mikeyway,” Pete grinned, kissing Mikey on the cheek. Mikey was a bit buzzed so he returned the favor and Pete looked downright giddy.  
“Jesus, you dork,” He laughed.

“You’re the fucking dork,” Pete retorted.

“I’m the coolest guy here,” Mikey said.

“Yeah,” Pete said, “Totally.

Mikey wished he could have been sober just then.


	9. Completely Fucked.

Seven in the morning was really only an acceptable time to Mikey when it was from staying up late. He liked to run right through the night. The issue was waking up early. But he hadn’t slept that night, and so the morning light coming through Pete’s window was a welcome sight. And it made Pete’s skin glow a little bit. He looked quite good. Mikey tried to appreciate that without feeling sick.

They were laying on Pete’s bed. Pete was resting on his chest. He wasn’t asleep, just calm for once. The show had probably pacified him. It was a good thing, Mikey thought. When they had gotten to Pete’s house, he was still buzzing with energy. He had been running circles around Mikey. And the second his bedroom door was closed he had pounced. They had made out for a while on Pete’s bed. And then talked. Then made out again. At some point, Pete’s shirt had come off.

_“I don’t want to do anything,” Mikey had said._

_“Anything?”_

_“Sex. I’m not gay.”_

_“Neither am I,” Pete said, “But anything above the waist…”_

So nothing particularly exciting had happened. Just making out and talking. It was kind of refreshing to do it on a real bed and not in the backseat of a car or pressed against a shelf full of toilet paper. 

Mikey found it a bit odd that nothing more happened. But it also made sense in a way. Neither boy had been prudish in past relationships. Mikey had had plenty of girlfriends who he had slept with. Plenty of hookups. It hadn’t been very important, even if in the last couple months he had taken a break. And Pete was notoriously promiscuous. It was probably his middle name. He was commonly referred to around school as a ‘man whore’. So it should be odd that they wouldn’t sleep together when there was clearly an attraction. But Mikey felt different about it. Pete had said ‘above the waist’ and it pretty much summed up Mikey’s own feelings. Above the waist, he had no complaints. Head, face, neck, chest, stomach, arms, hands. All good. Mikey liked all that. He wasn’t so keen on anything below the belt. He just wasn’t. And it seemed Pete wasn’t either. Maybe he was half gay.

For once, he didn’t feel much like worrying about it. And now they just layed there.

“Are you tired?” Mikey asked.

“No,” Pete said, “I don’t like to sleep. Are you?”

“No.”

Pete ran his hand along Mikey’s chest and began fidgeting with the neck of his shirt. Mikey’s fingers trailed over the faint bump of a tattoo on Pete’s back. Mikey hadn’t known Pete had a tattoo until just a few hours earlier. They had fallen back into quiet. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just a quiet time. Pete’s siblings were all still asleep and his parents were out on a walk. There was nothing to bother them. It was the most calm Mikey had felt around Pete since New Year’s. Maybe the most calm he’d felt in general since then. So obviously Pete had to ruin it.  
“What are we?” He asked. He was looking up at Mikey with big expectant eyes.

“I dunno,” Mikey said, “Friends?”

“Is that it?”

“What else would we be?”

Pete chewed on his lip. “Do you like me?” He asked and suddenly Mikey felt far too sober.

Mikey couldn’t say anything. He didn’t know what the answer was. Or if he did, he couldn’t let himself think about it. Which seemed an answer in and of itself.

“I like you,” Pete continued.

“I’m not gay.”

“But you’re not not gay,” Pete said, “What we do isn’t straight.”

“You’re the only guy I’d ever do this with,” Mikey said. Like that changed it.

“So then you do feel something for me?” Pete pushed. Mikey couldn’t tell if he sounded hopeful or desperate. Maybe it was the same thing.

“I don’t know.”

“Why not?” He was looking straight at Mikey.

“I dunno Pete.”

Pete looked hurt. His eyes flicked away from Mikey. Shit.

“Yeah, I guess. I do feel… something,” He relented. He told himself he just said it for Pete. It wasn’t true. It wasn’t anything to him. Pete was a good friend. The kissing bit was just some fun.

“So then,” Pete said, “We’re more than friends.”

“What does it matter? No one will know either way.”  
“It matters to me,” Pete said.

“Why?”

“Because. I want to do shit with you-”

“Like, dates?”  
“Yeah,” Pete said, “And other people don’t have to know they’re dates, but I still want them to be.”

“You wanna go on dates with me?” Mikey said it more as a statement than a question.

“Yes.”

The idea scared Mikey shitless. Going out with Pete in public and being _together_. People seeing them together. And abstractly it was almost nice, but entirely nerve wracking. He couldn’t do that. Even if Pete said no one would know. He couldn’t believe that.

“We hang out anyway, Mikey,” Pete said.

“If no one knows, how is it different from just hanging out?”

“We know.”

“Pete…” Mikey was losing his resolve, he could feel it. He wanted to let Pete talk him into it. He didn’t care to admit it. But Pete really… brought something out in Mikey. A few months ago he would never have even imagined he could feel anything like this towards a dude. And then Pete came along and suddenly it was just happening. Mikey couldn’t control it, he didn’t even fully know what it was. Pete, in the morning light, glowed, and his eyes were all warm and bright. His hair pressed up from where he’d been resting on Mikey. He knew he was pulled to Pete. And he wanted it to stop. But he wanted Pete to keep going. He didn’t want to like Pete, but Mikey really was losing his resolve. “Pete. It’s difficult,” He finally said.

“I get that Mikey, really,” Pete said, “But I think it could be totally worth it.”

Mikey thought back to his conversation with Gerard. Lately, when he got like this, all panicky and confused, it helped to ground him. Embrace it and figure it out along the way. He wanted to do that. Because he knew that this problem wasn’t going away. He wanted it to, but it wouldn’t. So he could at least try to not hate himself so much for it.

“I like you Pete,” He said, trying hard to mean it.

“I like you too Mikeyway.”  
“This is really tough for me. I really want to…” Mikey started to choke a little, “I want to be as cool with this as you are. I want to say yes to you right now.”

“I get it. You don’t have to say yes right now,” Pete said earnestly.

“I’m trying to get there,” Mikey said.

“Ok.” 

Pete kissed him. It was short. He relaxed back on his chest, returning to playing with the neck of Mikey’s shirt. Mikey ran his hands slowly up and down Pete’s shoulder. He appreciated that Pete had dropped it, but wasn’t sure just what he was feeling otherwise. He decided he meant it though, when he said he was trying. He wanted to be okay with what he and Pete were doing, even if it was just okay privately. He wasn’t sure he could ever be okay with other people seeing them. But he wanted to be able to talk to Pete alone and not feel like he was burning up from the inside. Really. 

Pete took Mikey home after lunch. Pete’s mom had been quite friendly with Mikey and insisted on making him something nice to eat, despite Pete’s insistence that they could feed themselves. Mikey found it funny to watch the guy beg his mom not to baby him and his friend. Friend. In the end, she made them both a sandwich. Mikey was just glad she didn’t seem to notice any of the marks on Mikey’s throat.

“I’d be cool if you could’ve stayed all weekend,” Pete had mused as he drove Mikey home.

“I promised Gerard I’d help him with his comic today…”

“I know. If you could though.”

When Mikey got out of Pete’s car, he felt a bit disoriented. He always felt disoriented coming home after staying the night somewhere else. A person just wasn’t supposed to be away that long maybe. Sometimes it just surprised Mikey how, no matter what he’d done somewhere else, he came back home and nothing was different. He felt like his world had flipped a little. Or was at least in position to be flipped. He had been more honest with Pete that morning than he had been even with himself. Which wasn’t saying much. But his house was still the same dingy red. There were still his mother’s and Gerard’s cars parked out front. There was still a wreath hanging on the front door from Halloween that no one had bothered to take down. Weird.

“Bye Mikeyway!” Pete shouted as he pulled out of the driveway. Mikey waved at him and walked up the front path to his door.

Gerard and his mother were sitting in the living room when Mikey came in, Gerard on the couch and her in an armchair smoking a cigarette. Mikey sat beside Gerard.

“Mikey, sweetie, how was your friend’s?” His mother asked as he settled in.

“Good,” Mikey said, “What’s going on?”

“Mom was looking over some of my work,” Gerard said, referring to an array of different sketches and paintings on the coffee table, all portraying varying levels of morbidity. Mikey guessed it was a project for school. Gerard was home so often, sometimes Mikey forgot he even went to school.

“I like that,” Mikey said, pointing to one of a pale man covered in streaks of bloody tears, holding a heart covered in nails.

“It’s all so violent,” His mother remarked.

“I think it’s cool,” Mikey said.

She sighed, “Boys!” and walked off to her room.

The phone rang in the kitchen and Mikey went off to get it.

“Hello?” He said.

“Mikey, hey, finally!” Frank’s voice said on the other line, “Where were you? I was calling all of yesterday.”

“Oh, I went to Pete’s show and then slept over at his.”

“You should’ve invited me,” Frank complained.

“Figured you wouldn’t wanna go,” Mikey said, “You’re not Pete’s number one fan.”

“I guess not. Still…”

“Well, what’s up?” Mikey said.

“Oh, I got Texas Chainsaw Massacre from Blockbuster, I thought we could watch it together,” Frank said.

“Can we do it next weekend?” Mikey asked, “I’m kinda tired.”

“I have to return it tonight,” Frank said.

“Oh…”

“Whatever man. It’s cool. We’ll do something next weekend,” Frank said.

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Yeah… well, uh. Bye,” Frank said awkwardly.

“Bye.”

The conversation left Mikey feeling pretty strange. A bit hollow or something.

When Mikey came back into the living room, Gerard was sat on the couch looking at Mikey with a shit eating grin.

“Frank called,” He said, “What?”

“So, how was Pete’s?” He asked, suggestivity lacing his voice.

“Fine,” Mikey said.

“Fine? That’s it.”

“It was good,” Mikey shrugged, “We had a good time.”

“I can see that,” Gerard said, pointing to Mikey’s neck. Mikey sheepishly covered the hickey he knew was there with his hand.

“Do you think mom noticed?” He asked.

“I think you’re good. She probably doesn’t care anyway.”  
“I guess not…” Mikey paused, “Hey, Gee?”  
“What’s up?”

“I think Pete asked me out,” Mikey said.

“Did you say yes?” Gerard asked

“No. I mean, he didn’t even really _ask_ me out. He just said he wanted to,” Mikey said, “I don’t know. It was weird.”

“Do you want to go out with him?” Gerard asked. Mikey gave a useless shrug. “C’mon Mikey, yes or no?”

“Yes,” He admitted. He knew Gerard had already figured that out. He just wanted Mikey to say it. Mikey was kind of glad he had.

“So, when he does ask, you’ll say yes?” Gerard continued.

“I don’t know.”

“Oh?”

Mikey sighed, “I don’t know. I think… I actually like him. I want to… I don’t know. I want to be close to him, ya know? Like, it’s the same way I felt about girls. But I don’t think I want to have sex with him, and I don’t… I don’t get that? Because I want everything else…”  
“You don’t have to have sex with him,” Gerard said, “Is he trying to make you have sex with him?”

“No, no. He’s the same way. ‘Above the waist’ he said. But it’s freaky. Feeling this way. I feel like I'm already barely keeping it together. I do like him. For real I think. But I feel like if we do that… it just-it’s _too_ real. Like, officially being into a guy,” Mikey explained.

“You’re not ready for that?” Gerard said.

“I want to be,” Mikey answered.

“Are you sure he’s not pressuring you into this Mikey? I mean, if you really want to do this I’ll support you one hundred percent,” Gerard said, “But you shouldn’t do anything you really aren’t comfortable with because a guy tells you to.”

“He isn’t making me do anything. And I’m not comfortable with this,” Mikey admitted, “But I really, really want to be.”

“Okay,” Gerard said.

“Okay?”

“I’ll support you,” Gerard told him, offering up a small smile.

Mikey felt like he could cry. He wouldn’t. His trademark stoicism saved him from that embarrassing display of emotions. But he could’ve. Because it just-it meant a lot to have his brother on his side. This thing with Pete had really put him out of his comfort zone. Straight into the deep end and he had no idea how he even got there. He felt alone. And Pete was there, but Pete would always have a self serving bias. It wouldn’t help Mikey, doing what Pete wanted. His whole relationship with Alicia had been that. And he didn’t care about her anymore, but being in a relationship like that had still messed with his head. Maybe if it had been better he wouldn’t have been so thrown by Pete. It was just a surreal and scary experience. He hated what it did to him. It made him secretive. It made him distrustful. It made him hate himself so much he could hardly stand being sober around the one person in his life who actually got what he was going through. But no matter what, he had Gerard. Gerard supported him. He was absolutely directionless but Gerard supported him.

“Thanks,” He said.

First thing on Monday morning, Mikey found Pete waiting by his locker, looking fairly caffeinated the way he bounced his leg rapidly. Mikey felt his stomach turn, a little excitement and a lot of terror, but he tried to keep his cool. He had known it would happen. He had taken some xanax from Gerard that morning. He kept repeating to himself _‘No one knows. It’s just between us’_ over and over, hoping it would just sink in. He sidled up beside Pete, trying his best to look nonchalant and not like a nervous middle schooler about to talk to his crush. When Pete noticed Mikey, his face lit up.

“Mikeyway!” He said, standing on the tips of his toes to give Mikey his standard greeting of a kiss on the cheek.

“Why d’ya always do that?” Mikey asked.

“What? Kiss you?” Pete said, like he thought it was a stupid question. Like why would he not kiss Mikey?

“Yeah,” Mikey said, “Aren’t you worried that, like, people’ll think you’re a fag?”

Pete looked at him blankly.

“You’ve never gotten shit for it?” He continued.

“No,” Pete told him, “People only pay attention when you make ‘em.”

“I guess you would know,” Mikey joked dryly. Pete burst into a braying laugh. “It wasn’t that funny.”

Pete ignored Mikey, instead saying, “When’s the next time you think you can come over? I wrote a shit ton of songs, I wanna show you some, I’ve just been on this creative kick, ya know? And-oh! You remember that book about nothing I was gonna write? Well, I had an idea for it, basically this kid, he’s like-like-”

“Pete,” Mikey interrupted, “What?” Pete was rushing his words and Mikey was kind of having trouble understanding him

Pete laughed again, “Sorry, I’ve got a lot in my brain, been saving all this up from the weekend.” 

“We saw each other Saturday.”

“Yeah, but I spent all of Sunday writing, otherwise I would’ve called you with this.”

“Okay,” Mikey said, a small smile creeping up his face. Pete was pretty amusing that day. “So, what about this book about nothing?”  
“Oh shit, right, right, so there’s this kid, right? And no one in the real world pays any attention to him, so he he’s having these recurring nightmares, but he starts making friends with people there, it’s like, he starts liking it better than the real world, even though it’s kinda fucked up and- oh wait, I forgot to ask you! You ever done acid?”

Mikey was gonna answer, but Pete didn’t give him a chance.  
“I really wanna, I met this guy at a show a while ago, he said he could get me some, Dya wanna-Gabe! Frank! Hey!”

The aforementioned boys came walking down the hall to meet up with Pete and Mikey.

“Hey Pete,” Gabe replied cheerily, though somehow, Gabe’s generally above average zeal seemed dull in comparison to Pete just then. Pete was practically vibrating.

“Hey,” Frank said. If Gabe was dull, he sounded downright miserable.

“I was just telling Mikey about this idea for a book I had, I-Hey, Frank, I like your shirt,” Pete said.

“Uh,” Frank said, glancing down at his Blink-182 shirt and carding his fingers through his hair, “Thanks man…”

“You hear they’re putting out a new album?”

“Yeah, I did. I-”

Pete kept talking. “I’m really hungry, are you guys hungry? I think I’m gonna cut class and get something to eat, want anything?”

“Dude,” Gabe said, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You sound like you’re on fucking meth,” Gabe said.

“He doesn’t always sound like that?” Frank grumbled, clearly not up for Pete’s antics just then.

Pete once again let out a big laugh and said, “Whatever, I’m getting food. Mikey, you coming?”

Mikey didn’t feel he had much of a choice in the matter, so he shrugged and let Pete drag him out of the school and through the parking lot to his car. When they got there, instead of getting in, like one might if they intended to drive, he pressed Mikey up against the car and kissed him. It was a lot more aggressive than Mikey was used to, but he didn’t mind so much. He felt Pete’s hand slide down to grab his ass, his other hand came to grab Mikey’s hair. Pete seemed enthusiastic to say the least.

Mikey pulled away for a second, breathing heavily, “Thought you were hungry.”

“Food can wait. Backseat,” He instructed, and Mikey was happy to comply.

Mikey opened the back door and Pete was there in an instant pinning him down and climbing on top of him, not even bothering to close the door behind him. Both boys’ focus was too directed at each other to really care. Pete leaned in hungrily and his mouth was on Mikey’s. They were making out at first, and then Pete moved down to his jaw, then his neck. It was all things Mikey was used to. He felt Pete’s hand slipping under his shirt, pushing it up a bit. His hands were surprisingly warm considering they had just been standing out in the middle of the January cold. But then Pete did something a bit surprising. He started moving lower down Mikey’s body, down to his exposed stomach. He brought his hand to Mikey’s fly and began working the button.

“Pete?” Mikey breathed.

“Hmm?”

“I thought we weren’t-”

“I changed my mind,” Pete replied, getting the button undone and pulling Mikey’s jeans down a bit, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna make you, like, touch me, I just kinda wanna blow you right now.”  
“Oh,” Mikey said, a bit dumbfounded. He wasn’t exactly opposed to the idea. A blowjob was a blowjob, and it wasn’t like he’d have to return the favor.

Pete grinned up at him, hands beginning to move under the elastic band of Mikey’s boxers, when Mikey heard a voice from outside the car.

“What the fuck?” 

He scrambled to sit up to see Frank standing outside the open door, looking absolutely taken aback. His mouth hung open and his eyes-which were already pretty buggy-looked like they were about to pop out of his head.

“Shit,” Pete said with a giggle. A fucking giggle. Like he wasn’t even bothered. He found it fucking amusing. Meanwhile Mikey felt like his whole world was imploding.

“Frank-” He started, but he didn’t know where to go. What were you supposed to say when your friend walks in on you getting a blowjob from another dude? There was probably an answer, probably several actually, but Mikey was too fucked to think of one.

“I was gonna ask you to pick up a shake for me,” Frank said. Mikey and Pete were supposed to be getting food. “What the fuck?”

“What’s up, Frankie?” Pete said, absolutely unbothered. Frank just stared at him.

“Mikey, what-what the fuck are you doing?” Frank stammered, and he sounded angry, and suddenly all of Mikey’s worries came flooding back in. Frank hated him, he would leave him. He’d never see him again. His life was unraveling. He pushed Pete off of him and struggled to pull up his pants.

“Frank-” Mikey still had no clue what to say.

“You’re fucking him?” Frank shouted and Mikey felt like he might puke.

“No,” Mikey said.

“It sure fucking looks like you are!” Frank was still shouting. Mikey really might puke.

Pete giggled again, and Mikey turned back to look at him, a bit horrified. How could he find this all fucking funny? Was he a fucking sadist?

“Shut the fuck up,” Frank barked at him, and Pete raised his hands in omission, clearly holding back more laughter.

“Frank, seriously, it’s not-I’m not gay,” Mikey told him.

“Mikey, I don’t give a fucking shit if you’re gay!” Frank yelled, “But you’re fucking him? Jesus Christ man!”

“Why-why is that a problem?” Mikey was absolutely thrown at that point. Frank was angry, he knew that. But it wasn’t because it was a dude, it was because it was Pete. Mikey knew Frank didn’t like Pete all that much, but if that was all it was, he seemed to be a little over the top. But fuck, maybe he wasn’t being over the top and there was something wrong with Mikey. He was so fucked up he didn’t even realize.

“Because he’s-shit dude he’s a fucking asshole!” Frank yelled.

“I’m still here,” Pete, who had miraculously remained quiet for the last minute and a half, said.

“Why the fuck _are_ you still here, huh?” Frank said.

“It’s my car,” He shrugged.

“Jesus, just fucking leave!” Frank said.

Pete, surprisingly, complied. He stood up, shutting the car door and gave Mikey a pat on the shoulder.

“Good luck, Mikeyway,” He said, planting a quick kiss on his cheek-which seemed entirely inappropriate just then-and walked off towards the school.

“How can you fucking stand him? Did you-Mikey did you fucking see him? He’s an asshole, how can you stand him?”

“Frank, I don’t know what you want me to say,” Mikey said quietly.

“Fuck,” Frank breathed, his hand tugging on his hair, “Man, I can’t… shit, I can’t do this right now.” 

With that, Frank turned and walked away himself, leaving Mikey to just stand in the middle of the parking lot feeling completely lost. He ran a hand through his hair, hoping to smooth it out. No way it had stayed neat through all that. He stood again, no purpose. He realized his fly was down, so he fixed himself. He had no idea what to do from there. Did he go back into school? Did he blow it off and get drunk by himself? Did he go home? The pills weren’t working. And he started thinking more broadly. The actual consequences of this. What was going to happen to him, would Frank out him? Would he hate him forever? Would Gabe? What the fuck was going on with Pete? Was it the end with him too? Did he even want to keep seeing him after all that? He was fucking awful. He fucking laughed. What the fuck was happening? All around him, it felt like the world was closing in. Why the fuck did he do this? He should have never kissed Pete. It wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth losing his friends over, it wasn’t worth losing Frank over. Shit, he couldn’t breathe.

He was completely fucked.


	10. Lysergic Acid Diethylamide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pretend i know what i'm talking about here, i've never done acid  
> thanks

“This is getting ridiculous,” Gabe groaned, “No, really. I’m gonna start throwing things if you two don’t cut it.”

“I’ll cut it when Mikey stops acting fucking crazy,” Frank said.

“Would you at least tell me what this is about? The hell did Mikey even do?” Gabe tried.

Neither Mikey nor Frank responded.

They were sitting in the library, in their usual spot by the window on a Monday afternoon. It was weird. They hadn’t talked to each other for a full week. But nothing else had changed. They both still hung out with Gabe at the same time. Frank was too stubborn to let Mikey drive him away, and Mikey couldn’t stand to be alone just then. At least Frank was keeping quiet through it all. He hadn’t said a word to Gabe about what he’d seen. Gabe just knew that he wasn’t talking to Mikey. Gabe had been trying to get them to work it out to no avail. He was getting very pissy about it. Mikey couldn’t blame him. It was upsetting him too, but he just wasn’t expressive like Gabe. He didn’t know what to say to Frank, not that Frank would talk to him anyway. He just wanted things to go back to normal.

“Mikey? Dude, you wanna give me any fucking insight?” Gabe asked.

Mikey shrugged.

“Fucking hell. Frank’s leaving in eleven days, and you two won’t even talk to each other. Stop being babies and work it out!” Gabe said, “You guys have been friends for like, forever. Whatever this is about get the fuck over it!”

They stayed silent.

“I’m seriously gonna start throwing stuff if neither of you says shit.”

“Mikey’s being a selfish dick. I’m not saying jack to him,” Frank huffed.

“What did he do?” Gabe said, exasperated.

“He fucking knows.”

“Frank, I don’t,” Mikey said.

“Bullshit.”

“Frank, I have no fucking clue what you’re upset about! If it isn’t about-” Mikey trailed off, realizing he had almost said it, “What is it about, dude?”

Frank ignored him, instead opting to stare out the window.  
“My mom’s here,” Frank grumbled, grabbing his coat and bag, “I’m out of here. See ya Gabe.”

“Bye Frankie,” Gabe said, sounding disappointed at the lack of resolution. Again.

Frank trudged out of the library. Mikey wondered if his mom was really there or if he just wanted out. Mikey wanted out too.

“Is he on his fucking period?” Gabe asked, sinking into his beanbag defeatedly.

“I dunno.”

“You seriously don’t have any idea what this is about?”

“Pete, I think,” Mikey admitted. 

“What about Pete?” Gabe asked, “Did he do something?”

“No… I mean, sort of, but…”

Pete had been… weird. When Frank had caught them. It was like he didn’t even care. And Mikey didn’t get it at all. But he also didn’t get why it was such a big deal to Frank. Why, if it wasn’t because Pete was a guy, was so horrible to him? Because Pete really wasn’t a bad guy. He was a bit over the top. A lot over the top. But he wasn’t a bad person. Since the incident, Pete had been totally normal. Mostly. He had kept talking to Mikey like nothing had happened. He was just as affectionate as ever, if not more so. It was like when he was with Mikey he was over the moon all the time, and Mikey honestly felt like… well he liked it. Pete wasn’t a bad guy. He didn’t think Frank was really having a proportional reaction.

“But?” Gabe asked, snapping Mikey from his thoughts.

“I mean, he just has an issue with me and Pete hanging out,” Mikey said, “I don’t know why it’s such a big deal to him.”

“Is he jealous?”

“Jealous?”

“That you and Pete hang out so much. You were kinda like, picking him over us a lot,” Gabe explained.

“Oh,” Mikey said. Gabe was probably right. He was spending way more time with Pete.

“I mean, I definitely think if that’s the case he’s being kinda dramatic about it,” Gabe said, “It seems pretty outta nowhere too.”

“Yeah…” 

No. It wasn’t really. He was sure this had been building up. And if Gabe was right, and he was jealous, seeing him and Pete like that probably sent him over the edge. Mikey was pretty sure he wasn’t jealous like, he was into Mikey. But he definitely was jealous. Really, it didn’t matter where it stemmed from.

“I don’t get why he’s being so cagey about it though. He’s always been more direct. Passive aggressive isn’t his thing,” Gabe said.

Mikey knew why. It was because Frank was a good person. Even if he was being an asshole just then, he was still Frank. Mikey knew Frank loved him. He wouldn’t out Mikey, no matter how mad he was. Mikey had been absolutely paranoid that he would, but he hadn’t. He wouldn’t. Mikey felt bad about keeping Gabe in the dark through all of this. Frank wouldn’t tell him anything, but Mikey felt Gabe deserved to know why his two best friends were at odds with each other all the sudden. And it was Gabe. He loved Mikey too.

_ Just embrace it and figure it out as you go. _

Mikey tapped his fingers against his thigh nervously as he glanced around the library. It was empty. That was good. Just him and Gabe.

“He wasn’t being passive aggressive,” Mikey said, “I didn’t want him to say anything about it. He knew that. That’s why he’s being cagey.”

“What?”

“He was covering for me. Last week-” Mikey took a deep breath, psyching himself up, “Last week he saw me and Pete, um- we were kinda-in his car… Pete was about to blow me.”

“Blow you,” Gabe deadpanned.

“Yeah…”

“Like, he was gonna suck your dick?”

“Yeah.”

“I knew it!” Gabe exclaimed, “I mean, I knew Pete had the hots for you. I didn’t know you two were like, fucking.”

“We aren’t fucking,” Mikey said.

“So it was like a one time thing?”

“No… Sort of. We’ve been making out a lot I guess. But that was the first time that, like…” Mikey didn’t want to finish the sentence.

“So, Frankie’s mad you two were hooking up? I didn’t think he was homophobic,” Gabe said.

“No, it’s not like that. It’s just Pete. He doesn’t like Pete.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah. I don’t really know what to do about it,” Mikey said.

“Well, are you and Pete still hooking up?” Gabe asked.

“I think we’re dating. Probably not for much longer,” Mikey said, “I don’t want to break up with him. But I want Frank to stop hating me and I don’t know what else he would want.”

“Do you love Pete?”

“No,” Mikey said, “But I like him. I guess I could… love him. Someday.”

“Frankie shouldn’t ask you to leave him,” Gabe said.

“What am I supposed to do?” Mikey asked. He was pretty much lost. Gerard had been busy with school with the end of the semester coming up and he never left the basement. He didn’t have anyone else to turn to. 

“Ask Frank,” Gabe said.

“He won’t talk to me.”

“It isn’t fair for him to just ice you out dude,” Gabe said, “I see why he’s upset. I mean, I’m not mad at you Mikey. I get you’re with Pete and you guys wanna spend time together. But it does suck not having you around and it feels like you’re too busy for us sometimes… but Frank can’t just flip out and not tell you why. Not if he wants to work things out, ya know?”

“I guess. Yeah. I’ll talk to him,” Mikey conceded. 

“Good.”

They sat there for a bit, not saying anything. Then Gabe said, “So… you’re like, gay now?”

Mikey shrugged. “It’s just Pete,” He explained. There wasn’t much else to it as far as he was concerned. He didn’t know why, but he was into Pete. As far as he could tell he was pretty much straight otherwise. It was just Pete.

Frank wasn’t in school the next day, Gabe said he had the flu. Mikey cursed his shitty immune system and its terrible timing. He needed to talk to Frank. He had been trying to call him all of Monday afternoon, but he hadn’t picked up. Mikey was a little anxious over it. He really needed to just work things out. He hated not having Frank there to talk to him. Especially now that Frank knew that Mikey was… not entirely straight. It should have been alleviating, having his best friend know this huge secret that had been weighing him down, especially when Mikey knew that Frank wasn’t upset about the gay aspect of it all. But Frank had had a problem with the Pete aspect, and seeing as Pete had kind of been the driving force in Mikey’s sexuality crisis to begin with, that wasn’t amazing. But he couldn’t talk to Frank about any of it. It was awful. He had Gabe, and that certainly helped. And he loved Gabe, of course. But he wanted to share this with both his friends, because he was finally getting it to not suck so much, and he always wanted them to be a part of his life, the same way he wanted to be a part of theirs’.

And he felt possibly even worse about the fact that he had hurt Frank. He hadn’t meant to be absent, although looking back, he definitely had been. He didn’t want Frank to think he liked Pete better, or didn’t want to spend time with him. Frank was a little shit, but Mikey cared about him. He was his best friend, no question. He didn’t want him to feel like that.

With all the stress, Mikey had started taking to smoking a lot more. He went through basically his entire stash in an afternoon. He had taken quite a few of Gerard’s pills too. Gerard was thankfully too preoccupied to notice his missing drugs. Mikey just needed to take the edge off things.

Gabe told him not to worry. He and Frank would work it out, no doubt, just give it a little time. Mikey wasn’t so sure.

Pete was trying to help too, but whatever was going on with him, it didn’t exactly work. He was always only half there, it felt. He tried to comfort Mikey, but then he’d be off on some incomprehensible tangent on like, the meaning of life or whether or not he should buy a new bass he had seen in a magazine or explaining how he had rearranged his room (twice) since the last time Mikey saw it. Mikey thought back to November and wondered once again if Pete was on drugs. But he seemed fine, just a little spazzed, so Mikey figured he shouldn’t worry about it. He was already dealing with Frank’s shit. Pete could handle himself.

He hadn’t seen Pete all day in school, which was a little unusual. He asked Patrick about it, but Patrick didn’t know anything either.

“Probably just skipping,” Patrick had said, “I’m sure he’s fine.”

Patrick didn’t sound too sold on the idea that Pete was fine. Mikey didn’t know why.

At the end of the day though, Pete appeared. He was waiting for Gabe to get out of class and drive him home, because Gerard was still locked up in his room, when Pete came running up to him.

“Mikeyway!” He said.

“Hey Pete,” Mikey said back, “Where were ya?”

“You remember that guy I was telling you about? With the acid?” Pete asked.

“Yeah?”

“I met up with him,” Pete grinned.

“That took you all day?” Mikey asked.

Pete giggled, “No, I got side tracked, I saw a pet store while I was driving, I had to check out the puppies, and then after I got it-”

“You got a puppy?”

“No, I got acid, anyway, I got the acid but I saw they were playing a special edition of Star Wars at the theatre on Main Street, so I saw that.”

“Oh, okay-”

“But, hey anyway, you wanna go get high?” Pete asked excitedly.

“Sure,” Mikey said, “Just let me tell Gabe he doesn’t have to drive me home.”

“Yeah, sure,” Pete said. 

The two boys waited by the door. Pete looked like he was gonna jump out of his skin or something. Gabe came out pretty soon, and Mikey told him he was going out with Pete. Gabe nodded and gave him a knowing look before saying his goodbyes to Mikey and Pete.

Pete all but dragged Mikey out to his car. Mikey sat in the passenger seat and after he had finished buckling, Pete leaned over and kissed him.

“Pete, there are still people in the parking lot,” Mikey said.

“Fuck em,” Pete laughed as he started the car. He pulled out of the lot and onto the road, blaring his music way louder than necessary. Even by Mikey’s standards. Pete didn’t tell Mikey where he was going, whether it was back to his house or if he had another place in mind. He was driving pretty fast, Mikey noticed, and they had quite a few close calls with some mailboxes.

“Pete, you wanna slow down?” Mikey said.

“Huh?”

“Are you not wearing your seatbelt?” Mikey asked, looking at Pete’s bare front.

“It’s fine Mikeyway, don’t worry,” He said.

“Yeah, but-”  
“Mikey, who’s the one here with a license?”

Mikey frowned but didn’t push. After only a few minutes, thanks to Pete’s speeding, they were at Pete’s house. When they got inside, Pete’s little sister was sitting on the couch watching Scooby Doo with Hemingway asleep beside her. Mikey had never really met her, they mostly stayed in Pete’s room when he went over.

“Hey Petey,” she said.

“Hey,” He said back, “Me and Mikey are gonna be upstairs, don’t bother us.”

“Petey?” Mikey whispered, amused.

“Fuck off,” Pete said back, but he had a big smile plastered across his face.

With that, he tugged Mikey to his room. He had moved the bed against the opposite wall with the desk at the window. His dresser was where his desk had been, and his bass in it’s same corner. He had even moved the posters around. There was a new carpet on the floor and a chunky TV opposite the bed. It was also absurdly clean. Like ‘Pete had scrubbed down every surface, all the furniture looked shiny and new’ clean.

“Couldn’t sleep last night, I figured I’d do something productive,” He explained, sitting on the bed, “Like the carpet?”

“Sure,” Mikey said, flopping down beside Pete.

“Well, we should get to it, huh Mikeyway?” Pete said smiling up at the other boy.

He pulled the tabs from his jeans pocket, handing one to Mikey. The other, he pressed to his tongue. Mikey followed suit. He had never actually done acid before, but neither had Pete. He wasn’t especially scared of it. 

“When’s it supposed to work?” Mikey asked.

“Dunno. We’ll probably be able to tell,” Pete said, leaning back against the wall, his legs hanging off the bed, “C’mere.”

Mikey shifted towards him and Pete pulled him in, immediately moving to lock their lips. He had been very enthusiastic every time they had kissed the last few days, like he just couldn’t get enough of Mikey. Mikey wasn’t complaining. He was gripping Mikey’s hair with one hand as the other snaked around his waist to pull him closer. He ended up straddling Pete. He bit down on Mikey’s lip a little and Mikey let out a soft moan. He felt Pete’s hand moving down between their bodies to palm Mikey’s dick.

“Pete,” Mikey said against his lips.

“Hmm?” He hummed.

“Are you sure you wanna, uh…” Mikey wasn’t sure what Pete was planning to do, but he wasn’t sure he wanted him to do it either. Not like he didn’t want him to touch him, as long as he didn’t have to handle any dicks in return it was fine by him, but he worried he was taking advantage.

“You don’t want me to give you a handjob?” Pete asked.

“No, it’s just like, I don’t want you to do anything you’re not okay with,” He replied.

“I want to.”

“I just wanna know you aren’t gonna regret it.”

“Why would I?” Pete laughed, “I was gonna blow you the other day. This is nothing.”

That was true. But Mikey hadn’t been as concerned for the guy then. Pete didn’t seem all that there lately. Mikey felt like he was kind of off in his own world. That day in the car he probably was too, but Mikey hadn’t noticed. Now that he had, he didn’t feel so comfortable letting him do it. Something about it just didn’t quite sit right with him.

“You said you didn’t like dick,” Mikey tried.

“I changed my mind,” Pete said.

“Just, I don’t want this to be like, a bad decision… I feel like it’d be taking advantage.”

“What, cause of the acid? You took it too, it’s fine. I’m totally cool with it,” Pete told him, “Besides, it hasn’t even kicked in yet.”

“Pete, just… not right now.”

“Fine suit yourself,” Pete said.

They returned to making out, which Mikey was thankful for. After about a half an hour of that, he could feel the LSD kicking in. He felt a wave of pleasure wash over him, and he giggled into Pete’s mouth. He felt like he was floating.

“You feelin it?” Pete asked.

Mikey grinned.

“Me too.”

“Your face is moving,” Mikey said. It looked like there were all these bright colors spreading across Pete’s face. It was rad.

Pete laughed, ducking his head to rest it on Mikey’s shoulder. Mikey watched him shake as he said, “Feels like ‘m on a fucking cloud.”

After a few hours, the two boys were sprawled out across Pete’s bed. Mikey felt absolutely content. Pete was spewing out more of his nonsense, and Mikey was just listening to the colors his voice was making. He had a yellow voice, Mikey decided. Like honey. And sometimes when he said certain words, they were tinged with red. At that moment, Pete was explaining the sight of lizards walking across his ceiling.

“Say that again,” Mikey said.

“Say what again?”

“Lizards.”

Pete giggled, “Lizards.”

It was red. Mikey liked when his words were red.

“My mouth tastes like metal. Does your mouth taste like metal, Mikeyway?” Pete asked.

“No, I don’t think so. S’kinda dry though.”

“Hm.”

“Say ‘lizards’ again.”

“Lizards,” Pete said, “Why do you like that so much?”

“Sounds good.”

Pete began laughing. He didn’t stop, just laughing and laughing and there were tears in his eyes. Soon after, Mikey joined in. Once he started, it felt like he couldn’t stop. Shit was just so good, all over. Like, things just were the way they should’ve been. He wasn’t worried about Frank, or Pete, or anyone else. He was just happy, and surrounded by amazing colors, and he couldn’t stop laughing.

“Mikey, we gotta do this all the time,” Pete choked out.

“Yeah,” He agreed through his giggling.

“We should never be sober again.”

“Never.”

“I think we should-Oh shit, Mikey! Mikey, we gotta-fuck,” Pete stood up, going to rummage through his desk. 

Mikey watched him, but his focus drifted to the walls, which looked like they were breathing.

“The walls are breathing,” He told Pete.

Pete looked up from his desk drawers to the walls and smiled widely.

“Awesome.”

Pete found what he was looking for, a VHS. He walked over to his TV and popped it in the VCR at the bottom of it. He turned on the TV and flopped back down on the bed beside Mikey.

“What’re we watching?” Mikey asked.

“Apocalypse Now,” Pete answered, “Joe told me it’d be good.”

The movie played, but Pete talked through most of it so it was hard to focus on. Not that Mikey probably would have been able to focus anyway, with the way the pictures on the TV were sort of shifting together. And the sounds all felt echoey. Still, he wasn’t all that bothered. He liked listening to Pete’s honey colored voice. About half way through the movie, he stopped paying attention entirely, instead watching Pete. His face was still rippling with colors, and his eyes looked huge. Mikey wondered what he looked like to Pete.

Mikey’s hand drifted to Pete’s face, though he wasn’t sure he had told it to. It looked very long, and Mikey asked himself if his hand had always been that long. Pete’s skin was warm under his. Pete leaned into it.

“I think I can see into the future,” Pete told Mikey, big eyes looking into his.

“What’s it look like?” Mikey asked.

“All metal, and bright. And there’s flying cars,” Pete told him.

“That’s sick. Say ‘flying’ again.”

“Flying. Does it sound good?” Pete giggled.

“Mhm. It’s like, like roses? Ya know?”

Pete giggled harder. He snorted, and Mikey belted out into laughter.

“You sound like the ocean,” Pete said.

“Yeah?”  
“Yeah, you’re like, all blue. Love it.”

Mikey rolled over to kiss Pete. He was really warm then. And Mikey felt like he was hyper aware of everything going on just then. The texture of his lips, the taste, the sounds, and every place their bodies touched. It was vivid, like he was on some new level.

Pete pushed himself up, climbing on top of Mikey as they continued kissing. He bit down on Mikey’s lip again and felt like there was a whole rush of electricity over his body. He wanted to pull Pete closer, but he was already pressed against him, so he wasn’t sure how.

He vaguely registered sounds outside of the room. Thumping sounds. He didn’t care, he was busy. But then the thumping got louder and he realized what was happening.

“Someone’s coming,” He whispered to Pete. He was pretty sure he whispered it.

The door began to creak open, but by the time Pete’s mother’s head poked through, Pete had rolled off of Mikey and had returned to fake watching the movie. Mikey looked at the screen. He still couldn’t tell what was happening. He thought he saw a cow, no, too big to be a cow. A bull maybe? Ox, bison… He decided not to dwell on it.

“What’re you boys doing?” She asked.

Pete looked up at his mom, as if he had just realized she was there.

“Watching a movie,” He said.

“I’m making dinner in an hour, will Mikey be staying?” She asked.

Pete stared at her for a minute. “Huh?”

“Is Mikey staying for dinner?” She repeated. Her skin was covered in the same flowing colors as Pete’s. It must have been genetic, Mikey thought to himself. He struggled to hold in a laugh.

“Dunno, mom,” Pete said, “We’re not hungry anyway.”

“Well, if you change your minds, food will be downstairs. Have fun,” She said, leaving and shutting the door behind her. Mikey heard more thumping, getting quieter this time.

Pete burst into another fit of giggles, and Mikey soon followed suit.

“How did she not know?” Mikey asked.

“She doesn’t wanna,” Pete replied.

“Fuck, I love this.”

“Yeah,” Pete said. He reached out and took Mikey’s hand in his. Their entwined fingers looked like a weird ball of snakes. “Hope we never come down.”


	11. You Always Pick Him

Saturday, the twenty-fifth of January, was six days from the end of the semester. Six days until Frank left for St. Thomas's. That day was also band practice.

Mikey wasn’t sure Frank would show. He had been out sick the whole week and was dodging Mikey’s calls. After the LSD had left Mikey’s system (far too early for his liking), the dread of what was to happen all came rushing back. A whole week of potential make-ups wasted. Shit, Frank probably wouldn’t show up even if he wasn’t sick, just to avoid Mikey. No, Mikey reminded himself that that was stupid. Frank wasn’t avoiding him, just ignoring him. Frank had made no efforts up to that moment to work around Mikey. He went about his normal life as if Mikey just wasn’t there. It wasn’t better.

They were setting up in the garage, fully prepared for no Frank. Ray was helping Gerard untangle the mic chord. It felt like the first time Mikey had seen Gerard in weeks. Mikey fidgeted with his amp. Once it was to his liking, he turned his bass down and absent mindedly plucked out a few riffs. He waited for the others to finish up so they could start playing. When the chord was finally unraveled, Ray moved to sling his own guitar over his shoulder and turned on his amp.

“We ready?” Gerard asked.

“Looks like,” said Ray.

Just as Gerard began to count them in, the side door of the garage opened and Frank came rushing in with his guitar case in hand, looking a little worse for wear. 

“I’m here!” He said, panting a bit.

He looked clammy and pale. He definitely wasn’t over his flu. Mikey wondered if his mom even knew he was there.

Frank quickly set himself up and the practice finally started. The first song they played was rough. Rougher than normal. Usually they had it down, but Frank looked a bit like he was gonna faint and that hindered his guitar playing a bit. Meanwhile, Mikey was a nervous wreck and far too sober. They ran through it again, and it didn’t sound quite so bad. Still. Not good.

The whole first half of practice went like that. It was frustrating. Mikey felt it was his fault, too. He should have been playing better. He and Frank had a fight, and what? Suddenly he sucked? He’d never be able to play shows if he couldn’t handle a little bit of conflict.

“Why don’t we take a break?” Ray suggested after their sixth mess of a song.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Gerard agreed, “Take five. Get some water, chill out, and regroup.”

Mikey leaned his bass up against the wall. Frank and Ray put their guitars back in their cases. Gerard left his mic in its stand and headed in the house for a bit.

“I’m taking a smoke,” Frank said, walking outside.

“Is he okay?” Ray asked after he was gone. Mikey shrugged. “He’s being quiet.”

“He’s been in a mood,” Mikey said, not really wanting to elaborate.

“How long?”

“Dunno. Since last Monday, I guess, so… ten, eleven… twelve days.”

“Jesus,” Ray said, “You checked in on him?”

“He’s not talking to me,” Mikey said.

“Why not?”

“He thinks I was being a dick.”

“Were you?”

“Kind of. He’s overreacting though,” Mikey said.

“That sucks. You should try to work it out, man. You want to work it out, right?” Mikey nodded, “And I’m sure Frank does too. Talk to him.”

It was the same thing Gabe had said.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” Mikey sighed.

He went out to join Frank and found him leaned up against the side of the house, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

“You know, those’ll kill you?” Mikey said, trying to break the ice.

Frank looked up at him. “Want one then?” He asked coldly. It wasn’t a real offer, Mikey knew.

“Can we talk?”

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Gabe said you’re jealous. Of me and Pete,” Mikey said.

“What?” Frank asked, rising up from the wall and looking completely caught off guard. And mildly offended. Mikey probably hadn’t worded it that well.

“Not like that, just… me and Pete were spending a lot of time together and I guess I sort of pushed you aside. I didn’t mean to,” Mikey said.

“What the fuck ever,” Frank said, brushing him off and leaning back again. He took a slow drag from the cigarette.  
“Frank, I wanna work this out, can we just talk about-”  
“Break up with him.”

“What?”

“Break up with Pete. Or call it off. Whatever you two are doing, end it,” Frank said, “I’m not working this out until he’s out of the picture.”

“I’m not breaking up with Pete, Frank. That isn’t fair,” Mikey said.

“Guess we’re not working this out then.”

“Frank, come on. I’m with Pete, so what? Why does that bother you so much? I’m still your friend. I still care about you just as much as before,” Mikey said, beginning to really get irritated.

“Do you Mikey? I feel like I don’t even know you anymore. Not as well as Pete. Pete fucking Wentz, Mikey, I know you less than Pete fucking Wentz!” Frank shouted at him.  
“That’s not true, Frank,” Mikey said.

“He knew before I did. That you were gay. You told him and not me.”

“That’s what this is about?”

“No! Fuck, Mikey, it’s about a lot of things!” Frank stood straight again, starting to sound exacerbated. And very angry. “You spend all your time with that fucking asshole. I’m gonna fucking leave in a week and you’d rather hang out with him? And you’re telling me we’ll still see each other even if we aren’t in school together, but I barely even see you outside of school now! Because you’d rather fuck Pete fucking Wentz than hang out with me and Gabe anymore. And you’re telling him things that you didn’t tell me. I’m supposed to be your best friend Mikey! Whatever, maybe it was hard, but you told him. Like, you’re just always picking him over me!”

“Frank, it’s not that simple,” Mikey said.

“It is Mikey. You always pick Pete over me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You won’t break up with him.”

“Because I don’t want a fucking ultimatum Frank! I care about you both, how is it fair to make me do this?” Mikey was getting absolutely sick of this back and forth.

“How is it fair that you can leave me and Gabe so you can fuck the biggest fucking whore in school?” Frank asked.

“I’m not leaving you guys! You’re the only one who thinks that! Even Gabe thinks you’re being fucking dramatic here Frank!”

“Oh, so Gabe’s taking your fucking side in this?” Frank spat.

“He’s not taking anyone’s side, he wants us to stop fighting!”

“Gabe doesn’t know shit about this!” 

“He knows just as much as you do.”

“So you told Gabe? Am I the only one you didn’t fucking tell?”

“Jesus Christ Frank, I told Gabe because of you, you fucking moron!”  
“Fuck you!”

“No fuck you! I didn’t tell you, and I’m sorry, but I fucking couldn’t! I didn’t mean to do anything with Pete, it just happened! And it was fucking hard for me! I have no idea what I’m doing Frank,” Mikey exclaimed, “I barely even knew what happened. Shit just-me and Pete were an accident. And sure, maybe I’m trying to make the best of it, but it’s so fucking hard Frank. I hate myself for feeling this way towards him. And I hate myself for hurting you, and not trusting you enough to tell you, or Gabe. And I hate myself for hating myself. This is so fucking hard on me, and I’m sorry, I really am, that I pushed you away, but I couldn’t fucking deal!”

“That isn’t my fucking problem Mikey. You can’t take your shit out on me,” Frank said.

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

“Fuck you is what I’m doing,” Frank barked.

“Frank, can we please just-”

“I’m not talking about this anymore,” Frank said, putting out his cigarettes and pushing past Mikey to go back inside, “You really wanna work this out, get rid of Pete.”

He disappeared through the door. Mikey stood there feeling numb. What the hell had just happened? He went out to make things right, but they were at each other's throats the whole time. Both of them. He was so confused. Frank was jealous of Pete. He felt neglected. He felt angry. Mikey could tell all that. But he couldn’t understand why he was so stubborn about it. Why he couldn’t talk it out. And the ultimatum, that was just… He couldn’t believe Frank really gave him an ultimatum. Because that sure was how you dealt with issues. He understood Frank was upset, he wanted to make things right, but it was hard when Frank was being so goddamn childish. And it threw Mikey through a loop, because it was so unlike Frank. Like, sure he could be a bit immature, but not like that. Like, ‘fun, little kid like energy, watching Sunday cartoons’ immature, not ‘tell your friends to fuck themselves and demand they break up with their boyfriend for you’ immature. It was just really fucking with Mikey. He needed Frank, but he had no idea what to do. His only option was breaking up with Pete. But he didn’t want to do that. It should have been easy to pick Frank over Pete, but as troublesome as their relationship was, he had promised himself he would really try. He needed that too. He was at a loss.

“Mikey,” Gerard’s head peeped through the door, “You comin back in?”

“No,” Mikey said. He took off his glasses and rubbed them against his shirt.

“You-fuck, Mikes, are you okay?” Gerard came the rest of the way outside and he stood right beside Mikey, a hand on his shoulder.

“Fine,” Mikey said. His face felt hot, and he realized there were tears.

“You’re crying,” Gerard stated.

“It’s fine.”  
“We can talk about it Mikey,” Gerard tried, but Mikey shook him off. He didn’t want to relive it just then. He wanted to just feel better, like nothing had happened. Maybe Pete had the right idea, just letting nothing bother him ever.

“Not now,” He said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” He nodded, “Go finish up practice, I think I just gotta be alone right now.”

Gerard looked hesitant to leave, but eventually he did. Before he left he turned to Mikey and said, “I love you, Mikes.”

“Love you too,” Mikey muttered.

He wiped his eyes, pushing his glasses up. He needed to get away from there. The house, Frank, his brother. He didn’t really want to be alone. Just, he couldn’t be there. He thought about calling Pete. _You always pick him over me_. He decided against it. Pete’s energy didn’t really match Mikey just then anyway. He was too spastic. He just wanted comfort. He decided to call Gabe. He walked in the house to the kitchen. He could hear the music through the walls. It sounded better without him. He dialed Gabe’s number.  
“What’s up?” Gabe answered.

“Can I come over?”

“Thought you had band practice today,” Gabe said.

“Please.” His voice cracked.

Gabe seemed to register that Mikey was in crisis mode.

“Course man,” He said softer, “You want me to pick you up?”

“It’s okay. I can walk.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon then… Take care.”

The walk to Gabe’s was cold. There had been heavy snowfall on and off the last few days, and there was a biting wind that was blowing around Mikey. He kind of enjoyed the sting. It took his mind off the heavy pit in his stomach. It was only about twenty minutes though, which felt too short.

He knocked on the door. It opened to reveal the giraffe boy himself, Gabe. Gabe took him inside. It was mostly quiet. He just led him up to his room and let him sit on his bed.

“You want a blanket man? It’s pretty cold out,” Gabe said.

Mikey shook his head.

“I tried to talk to Frank,” He told Gabe.

Gabe frowned, sitting beside his friend on the bed, “Guessing it didn’t go well based on the whole ‘woe is me’ thing you got going on.”

“Definitely not. I don’t really wanna talk about it though.”

“That’s fine. We can talk about something else.”

“Thanks.”

“So… how bout this weather we’re having?” Gabe said.

Mikey chuckled a little. “Dude, that’s lame.”

“Just give me a minute to get into a rhythm,” Gabe said, “I’m off my game.”

“I feel ya. I sounded like shit at practice earlier,” Mikey said.

“In a rut?”

“Or I’m just not as good as I thought.”

“Mikey, you gotta stop being so down on yourself. Be nicer. You’re great. Or talk about me, I’m great too. That’ll cheer you up,” Gabe said.

“Alright. What’ve you been up to Gabe?”

“Thank you for asking Mikey. Actually, I’ve been working on something big,” Gabe said.

“What’re you working on?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking, end of the semester, ya know… it’s kinda gonna be big. Frank and everything. So I’m throwing an end of semester party on Friday. It’s gonna be even fucking bigger. Parents in New York for a weekend, lotta music, lotta booze, it’ll be great.”

Gabe was grinning ear to ear.

“That’s awesome,” Mikey said, “I definitely need to blow off some steam.”

“Exactly! It’s what the people need right now,” Gabe said.

“Ya know, you’re actually pretty cool, Gabe,” Mikey said.

“ _Actually_?”

“You’re cool Gabe,” Mikey corrected, “So, what else is up?” He was feeling guilty about blowing off Frank and Gabe. He wanted to try to get more involved with them again.

“Well, you remember Victoria? We’ve been hooking up still. I don’t think I’m actually that into her though,” Gabe said, “I mean, she’s cool. But there’s this girl in my sociology class, she’s totally hot. Definitely trying with her.”

“You’re kind of a slut, dude,” Mikey joked.

“They call me El Mujeriego,” Gabe said.

“You know I don’t speak Spanish.”

“And that’s why you never get any chicks,” Gabe said, “Oh shit-wait…”

“Yeah.”

“Well, less competition for me with you dating our dear Pete. Honestly, Frank should be grateful. He could use all the help he can get,” Gabe said.

“I don’t think I can get in on any Frank bashing right now,” Mikey said.

“Probably not. I can though.”

“You’ll have to do it for the both of us.”

They talked for a while like that, and it did just what Mikey had wanted. Made him feel normal, like nothing had happened. It wasn’t hard to talk to Gabe. Especially now that he wasn’t hiding anything from him. Mikey had no idea how liberating it would be to let people know, but it was. It made everything lighter. And he could talk to Gabe about dating without panicking, when Gabe put his hand on Mikey’s shoulder he didn’t feel sick. His life was just a little bit more on track. At least in that moment. Mikey was appreciative of it.

He had missed Gabe a lot, he realized. Even before he had become so wrapped up with Pete, he had been isolating himself. Since New Year’s. And talking with Gabe was like being a junior again. Everything was easier. They weren’t so wound tight. He and Frank were like brothers. Gabe was totally unbothered, not stuck in the middle of stupid friendship drama. There was no talk of St. Thomas's. Frank was pick pocketing left and right-shit he hadn’t done that in months. But they were a group then. And he hadn’t met Alicia yet. Pete was just a guy who smoked him out sometimes. It felt so simple. A part of him wanted to go back. But he couldn’t do that with Pete.

“I think I have to break up with Pete,” Mikey admitted.

“Do you want to?” Gabe asked

“No.”

“Then don’t break up with him,” said Gabe.

“But Frank said-”

“Fuck what Frank said dude. I love Frankie, really. And he’s a good kid. But he’s wrong on this one. You can’t make someone pick between people they care about, it’s fucked up. You can’t let him do that. He needs to learn it’s not okay,” Gabe said.

“I just want Frank to stop hating me.”

“He doesn’t hate you. He’s stubborn. He’ll come to his senses and you guys'll work this out, alright?”

Mikey stared at him for a moment. “Since when did you get so smart?”

“My mom makes me watch advice shows with her,” Gabe said, “Now let’s shut the fuck up about this, I got like a quad waiting to be smoked.”


	12. New York

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah so idk if this needs like a warning or anything but there's a car crash ahead. better safe than sorry, right?

As promised, Gabe’s end of semester party was big. When Mikey got there, the music and the chattering could be heard before he had even turned onto his street. There were cars up and down the road, and his front porch was supporting a sizable group of people despite the cold weather that came with the end of January. Inside there were even more people. Mikey figured the whole school must have been there, and he actually recognized a lot of people from a few surrounding schools too. Mostly people he had met at gigs. Gabe was giving Frank quite the send off. Mikey was sad that there was almost no chance he would actually get to see Frank that night. It was like he was just another face in the crowd, just there for the beer, and not Frank’s best friend saying good-bye.

When he was inside, the night was made just a little bit worse when Mikey realized he was alone. Frank was always his party buddy. Drinks in the corner and whatnot. Gabe would either be impossible to pin like he usually was or spend the whole night glued to Frank. As much as Mikey wished he could cling to Gabe, it was only fair to let Frank have him. It was like being a fucking divorced parent and he and Frank had to fight over custody for their son. But that left Mikey to himself.

He pushed through to the kitchen and got himself a beer. It had been a long time since his last party. He wasn’t harcore into them like Gabe, they were fairly irregular in his life. The last time he had been at a party, he had hooked up with someone he had met right in the kitchen he stood then. What had her name been? Jessica? And when he had left with her, he remembered Pete had freaked out. Gone a bit off the deep end. It clicked in Mikey’s head that Gabe had been right about that. Pete had been jealous. It was obvious then, but he had just never really thought about it. Well, Pete had nothing to be jealous of anymore.

He wondered where Pete was. He leaned back against the doorframe between the kitchen and the living room, hoping to maybe catch the boy should he pass. Pete had told him he would be there. He had made good company last time. Mikey wondered though, if that would still be true. Pete had been especially flighty as of late, and that meant a pretty unreliable guy became entirely unreliable. In the last few weeks it was like Pete was just on twenty-four seven. He was so all over the place, half the time he forgot he had even made plans with Mikey. They were meant to go out to eat together a few days earlier, but Pete had never showed. Mikey found out the next day that Pete had been busy deep cleaning his car. He tried not to let it bother him, but it always just pulled his brain back to that day in November when he smashed Kelly’s sunroof. Mikey was almost sure he was doing drugs. Maybe he had relapsed?

While he was looking out for the guy, his eyes caught Frank and Gabe dancing. The way they were swaying, Mikey could tell they were pretty drunk. They looked like they were having fun, all bright smiles and giddy laughs, and Mikey felt a tug on his heart. He wished he could have just walked up to them and joined in like everything was okay. He wished that-

“Mikeyway! Found you!” Pete cheered, pulling Mikey from his pity party and kissing him on the cheek. He had a bottle of vodka in his hand that he seemed to have made good progress on.

“Hey, Pete,” Mikey said, smiling a bit upon seeing him.

“You havin fun?” Pete asked.

“Not really.”

“Aw, that’s lame! We’re at a party man!” Pete said and grabbed Mikey’s wrist, “C’mon, let’s dance!”

Pete hauled him off to the living room/dance floor, pulling him close against his body and sloppily moving to the beat of whatever shitty pop song Gabe had playing. Mikey was only about half a beer in-though truthfully he had done some pregaming with Gerard- so his dancing was somewhat more rhythmic than Pete’s.

He tried to ignore the nagging voice in his head that was yelling at him to get out of there. That people would look at them funny, that people could tell. He knew, in reality, the two of them dancing wasn’t so scandalous, and most people were too drunk to notice anyway. Another voice was saying that Frank could notice. And if Frank saw them dancing he’d be even more pissed, no doubt. He tried to ignore them, and just focus on Pete dancing against him. 

His body was warm, and he smelled like sweat, alcohol, and coconut. 

Mikey snatched the bottle from Pete’s hand and took a swig of it. It burned down his throat, but he liked it. He had always liked the burn his throat felt whenever he smoked or drank. It was quite honestly comforting at that point.

“Felt like it took you forever to get here, I was gettin bored” Pete said as they continued dancing. He had to lean in close so Mikey could hear him.

“Yeah, I wanted to torture you, making you wait,” Mikey said back. Really, the party had started forty minutes before Mikey got there. It only took so long because he was pretty unenthusiastic about being there to begin with.

“You’re so mean,” Pete giggled, “If you hadn’ shown up, I might’ve had to take Ashley up on her offer to blow me in the bathroom.”

Mikey hated that. The second it was out of Pete’s mouth, it put him off. He knew Pete wasn’t serious. Mostly he knew. But it just made him so uncomfortable. The idea that Pete would just shrug Mikey off when it was convenient, or even that Pete just found that to be a funny thought. Mikey was so vulnerable just admitting to Pete that he liked him. Maybe they weren’t official, or even really exclusive, but he didn’t like being so disposable when he had put himself out on the line like that, even for a joke.

“Relax, Mikey, ’m kidding,” Pete laughed.

“It wasn’t very funny,” He muttered.

“Dude, ’s just a blowjob.”

“Whatever.”

“Wait, are you actually upset bout it?” Pete said, like it had just sunk in that Mikey was pissed.

“I said whatever, Pete,” Mikey said, “Let’s just dance.”

Pete had no problem dropping that topic quickly and returned his focus to swaying his body in pseudo-rhythm with the music. Mikey felt a bit sick still, so he took another pull from Pete’s vodka. At some point, Pete started talking again. The kid could talk a lot. It was starting to seep into Mikey’s dreams actually. 

“I wanna buy this popcorn machine, like one of those really nice classic ones that they- they have at carnivals or whatever, cause like, how fuckin cool’d that be? But it cost a couple hundred bucks ‘n I realized I don’ have any money,” Pete was saying, words a bit slurred.

“What would you even do with it?” Mikey asked.

“Make popcorn, what the fuck else, Mikey?” Pete said, “’N I can save up with the money we make at gigs but ’s gonna take fuckin forever.”

“Why don’t you get a real job?”

“Music ’s a real job.”

“Well, how were you paying for stuff before? You buy stuff all the time?” In the time they’d known each other, he had seen Pete buy food, drugs, and a lot of CDs. Individually not as expensive as a popcorn machine sure, but not cheap enough for a guy who didn’t even make minimum wage. Mikey didn’t have a job either, but almost everything he had was either a hand-me down, borrowed, or stolen. He didn’t know how Pete did it.

“I had money saved from when I worked at Target,” Pete said.  
“You worked at Target?”

“Few months ago, yeah,” Pete said, “I quit though, they were so all over me, like, always tellin me what to do, up my ass bout shit I didn’ care about, felt like they were suffocatin me.”

“But isn’t that like, what jobs are?” Mikey asked. He didn’t know why he was still humoring him.

“Well, why should I put up with it?” Pete countered.

“So you can save money for a popcorn machine?”

“Whatever, ’ve got somethin else figured out for that,” Pete shrugged.  
“What?”

“Well, ya remember my book?”

“The one about nothing?”

“Yes! ’S gonna be a big money maker, I can tell, and everythin just keeps coming back to it, Mikey! Like, when I thought it up, I was with you, ’n I love being with you, ’s the best, and then I kept on thinking bout it and ’s like there in my head all laid out, and now ’s gonna buy me my popcorn machine, like ’s all just-” He paused, “Oh my god, I fuckin love this song!”

“You love Spice Girls?” Mikey asked, listening as Wannabe came on over the speakers.

“You don’t?” Pete said in disbelief.

Mikey just shrugged. Honestly, it would be a lie to say he didn’t enjoy that fucking song. But he had too much pride to admit it.

Pete stayed mostly quiet through the song, though his dancing became increasingly enthused and it was starting to wear Mikey out. Between that and his frequent drinks from Pete’s bottle, Mikey had started to get a bit wobbly, and his dancing turned more into tripping. 

“Shit, I gotta sit down,” Mikey told Pete as the song ended.

“Yeah, ’m gettin bored,” Pete agreed, “Wanna go out to my car?”

Mikey nodded. Making out sounded much better to him than staying in that cramped house. And he felt like he kind of just needed Pete to himself. It was probably just Pete’s earlier comment, but he felt like he needed to prove that he and Pete were… together. Ish. They were more together than not. He wanted to not worry about Pete drifting off to someone else in the middle of the party. 

It hit Mikey how absolutely gay that sounded. Pete really had him in his pocket. He kind of liked it.

They passed Frank and Gabe as they left.

“Mikey, Pete, you guys leaving already?” Gabe asked, disappointed, as if they had even hung out. That sounded more bitter than Mikey had meant it. 

“For now,” Pete told him, “See ya.”

“See ya, I guess,” Gabe said.  
“Bye, Frankie,” Pete added as he started towards the front door again.

Frank glared at him without a word. Mikey figured it’d be best to keep his mouth shut and just follow Pete.

Pete’s car was a few blocks down, and the walk there was cold and a bit sobering. The calmness made everything clearer, though the two boys were still stumbling down the road like idiots while Pete sang himself an off-key rendition of Wannabe. He really did love that song. Mikey found it hilarious. And a little cute. When they got to the beat up old Honda, Pete got in the driver’s seat, which confused Mikey a bit. Making out was easier in the back. He was drunk though, and not super picky, so he shrugged it off and got in the passenger seat. Pete leaned across the console and kissed Mikey, but it was short and left Mikey once again confused when he pulled away entirely.

“What’re ya doin?” Mikey asked him.

“What d’ya mean?” Pete asked as he started the car.

“Shit, Pete, you’re drunk, you sure you can drive?” Mikey said.

Pete giggled, “’S fine Mikey, don’ worry. I feel totally fine.”

“Dude, you’re seriously wasted.”

“I have total clarity,” He slurred, “Trust me.”

“I guess.” It wasn’t like Mikey hadn’t driven with drunk people before. Maybe that wasn’t a good thing, but nothing had ever happened to him.

Pete pulled out onto the road in a fast, jerky motion. He seemed unbothered by it, continuing down Gabe’s street at the same dangerous speed. 

“Pete, this is a fucking neighborhood,” Mikey said.

“Mikey, chill out,” Pete said, speeding up.

He took them winding through backstreets with, as far as Mikey could tell, no purpose. Pete was singing along to a Bowie CD he had popped in his car as they turned down a road that Mikey knew took them out of town. He wondered if Pete had a destination in mind or if he was just driving around all willy nilly. He was getting faster the farther they went. It was starting to worry Mikey.

“Where are you going?” Mikey asked.

“New York,” Pete said.

“The fuck? New York?”

“The city, yeah,” Pete confirmed, “I’ve never been, have you? It’s literally so close, I don’t know why we don’t go there all the time.”

“Pete, I don’t want to go to New York,” Mikey said. He felt panicked all of the sudden, because he was worried Pete was about to snap or something. Like he’d been going too hard for too long and it was all just going to have to collapse. New York wasn’t far, sure, but the way Pete was driving, there was no way they’d survive the trip there. He didn’t want to be going anywhere with Pete just then.

“No, Mikey it’ll seriously be awesome, I promise,” Pete said. He had some massive grin on like it was the best idea he’d ever had. 

“Not if we crash before we get there!”

“We aren’t gonna crash, I know how to drive!” As if to prove his point, Pete clipped a mailbox. “Shit,” He giggled.

“Pete!”

“It’s fine, Mikeyway, it’s just a mailbox.”

“Pete, I don’t want to go to New York.”

“Mikey, I’m serious, we’re gonna have a great time, you’ve seen the movies, right? It’s like, all types of cool shit, we can see shows, or go to the Empire State Building, and they have fuckin gay bars up there, man, we could go and-”

“Are you fucking high right now?”

“What?” Pete’s grin finally broke. He turned to Mikey, looking somewhere between hurt and indignant.

“Are you fucking high?” Mikey repeated, and he could feel the fear stuck in his throat, “What the fuck are you talking about? We’re not going to New York! You’re not writing a fucking book, and you’re not buying a fucking popcorn machine, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Pete stopped the car. Just right there. In the middle of the road.

“Get out,” He said.

“What?” Mikey was tempted to just do it. To leave. Say ‘fuck you’ to Pete and never see him again. Like normal. Go back to Frank and Gabe with no drama, because he wasn’t with Pete anymore. No more waking up every day with the dread of being found out. No more having to take those stupid pills all the fucking time. No more having to deal with the weird shit Pete pulled. No more being fucking gay. Just him, Frank, and Gabe. Just like the old days. But he couldn’t do that, because if he did, Pete would still go off to do whatever crazy shit he wanted and Mikey would feel like shit if something happened to him. He couldn’t leave.

“Get out of my fucking car,” Pete repeated.

“Why?”

“I’m going to New York. You don’t wanna come, whatever. I don’t care.”

“Pete, you’re not going to New York,” Mikey insisted.

“Get the fuck out!” He yelled.

“Pete, fucking calm down!” Mikey said, “Just, pull over, okay? We can talk about this.”

“No, no, you’re getting the fuck out.”

“Pete-”

“You’re just like everyone else, Mikey. Everyone thinks there’s something wrong with me. Like, just because I’m finally happy, it’s an inconvenience to them, fucking ‘Pete’s not sad, he must be crazy’. I’m going to fucking New York. I don’t give a shit what you, or Patrick, or my fucking parents have to say, I’m doing it. Fuck you! Fuck everyone!” He spat. He looked almost wild. Like, he was some cornered animal or something.

“Pete, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mikey told him, feeling increasingly desperate, “I’m worried about you, man. You’re-shit, you’re scaring me. Can you please just calm down?”

“What the fuck are you worried about Mikey?”

“Can you just tell me what’s happening?” Mikey pleaded. He wanted Pete to just calm down. He wanted to get out, but he couldn’t leave Pete. He was gonna get himself killed. Or both of them if he stayed. Shit, Mikey was so confused.

“Nothing is happening! I’m fine!”

Behind them, a car honked before passing. Pete looked like he was about to lose it at the car, as if it had just wronged him somehow.

“You’re in the middle of the road,” Mikey said.

Pete looked at him like he had no idea what he was saying. His eyes were bloodshot and huge. He looked fucking tired.

“Shit,” He mumbled, processing Mikey’s words and starting the car again.

“Pete,” Mikey tried quietly, “We can’t go to New York.”

Pete didn’t respond. He just kept singing along to Bowie. He was still going too fast. Mikey didn’t know what to do. 

“Pete, can we please go home?”

As they came up on a corner, Pete did something wrong. Mikey couldn’t tell what. He just knew that all of the sudden, he was thrown into the car door, which wasn’t right.

It was all very fast. Just a bunch of random, awful sensations occurring in quick collision. A tight pull on his chest, a hard surface hitting his knees, the smell of dust, an intense pain in his arm, and something sharp cutting all over his body. Everything ached. He was warm. His face was wet. He wasn’t sure if he closed his eyes or not. There were flashes of colors, but they might have been his brain. He heard a muffled voice. It didn’t actually sound like much. He was preoccupied with the pain, and the new waves of nausea which seemed to be rushing over him. 

Then there was nothing for a minute, and he thought maybe it was over. 

It came back soon after. He felt arms around him. It made the pain worse. Sounds were clearer. A lot of voices. Something sharp and high-pitched. He opened his eyes. Everything was blurry. He reached up to fix his glasses, but there was a stabbing pain in his arm when he tried to move it. There was more talking, but he didn’t want to listen.

He thought he was in an ambulance at some point. They asked him all the questions they asked to see if you had a brain injury. Had he had a brain injury? Was that what had happened? They asked him what happened. He and Pete were driving. Fast. 

Everything was blurring.

He got to the hospital. Everything was very bright white and it hurt Mikey’s head. They told him he had a broken ulna. That was one of the arm bones. Forearm. They used more words, but Mikey dumbed it down for himself. They put him in a cast and sling. He had a concussion too. He had passed out, they said. Nothing too bad. Whiplash, some shards of glass had cut him. They cleaned him off. They said he would be okay. Just small cuts. One kind of big one across his cheek. His glasses were broken though.

They had hit a tree, they said.

He asked where Pete was, if he was okay. They said he was fine and nothing else. Mikey wasn’t sure he wanted to know much else. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see Pete again.

His mother and Gerard picked him up. Someone must have called them, he remembered being told that someone would call them. They both hugged him tightly. He couldn’t see either of them. They smelled like coffee and cigarettes. Gerard smelled like paints. He must have been painting. It was weird, Mikey thought, that Gerard had been doing something in the middle of it all. Everyone had. He and Pete were the only ones who weren’t. Huh.

They took him home after the doctor gave them a run down of what had happened. He was a tall guy, silvery white beard. That was all Mikey could tell. He had a calming voice.

No one seemed to care that Mikey was drunk, he noticed.

In the car, his mother and Gerard went back and forth between coddling Mikey and cursing out Pete. Mikey didn’t like being coddled. His mom said they would go buy him new glasses the next morning. When they got home, the lights were too bright and his mother had hurried to shut them all off. He went to his room. Gerard followed.

“I’ll kill him,” He said as he helped Mikey into bed. Mikey could do it on his own. Gerard was just like that.

“I’m gonna sleep,” Mikey said.

“Right, sorry Mikes. I’ll leave you to-”

“Stay?”

“Of course.”

Gerard laid beside Mikey. He was being very delicate with him. It was fine. He was as comfortable as a boy with a broken ulna, a concussion, whiplash, and shards of glass in him could have been just then. Long as he didn’t think about Pete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :~|


	13. Are We Okay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just an fyi, a few of the ideas expressed about bipolar disorder in the next few chapters might sound a little weird. i'm writing teenage boys in the 90s with limited knowledge about that stuff, but i just wanted to make it clear they aren't necessarily what i think lol

Mikey slept through most of Saturday. His mother was in and out bringing him meals. He hadn’t had anything to eat the night before. When he woke up, it was like everything hit him all over again. It wasn’t as bad, but at the same time it was much clearer. The shock had worn off. And he was very hungry. He almost choked on the omelette his mother brought him from how fast he ate it.

Gerard stayed with him most of the day, alternating between doodling by the end of his bed and flipping through one of his comics when Mikey didn’t feel like talking. They could hear their mother down in the kitchen all morning on the phone, calling up all their family to tell them about what happened. They all sent Mikey their best. Gerard made a call too, but he was much quieter. Mikey couldn’t hear him. That was alright, the loud noises were giving him a headache.

He had to go out with his mother to see the eye doctor in the afternoon. That was quick. They got him sunglasses too, for the concussion. It’d take three days for his glasses to be ready. Until then he would have to use his spare pair. Cheap plastic framed glasses that he always kept in a drawer of his nightstand.

On Sunday, he was a little better. Everything was feeling duller. He got up, deciding he wanted a shower. His mother tried to protest, but he insisted. Generally, he wasn’t a big clean freak. He showered as often as he needed to but he never went overboard. He really needed to shower just then. He felt like he was covered in a layer of grime. He needed it all off him. Just a reset button, make it all go away. He hated feeling like he was still covered in that night. So his mother made him wear a plastic bag tied around his arm. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do.

While he waited for the shower, he looked himself over in the bathroom mirror. The lights were off, so it was dim. What he could see looked rough, for sure. His chest was mottled with bruises and there were little cuts all across his skin. There was an angry red indent along his neck where the seat belt must have dug in. It was worse on his face. That was where most of the damage was (other than the broken arm). There was one big cut across his cheek that stood out. There were little ones around his eyes, and one across the bridge of his nose. His glasses. His hair was unwashed and sticking out in all directions. He looked like he had just crawled out of his casket. He wondered if maybe he actually had died. He was just a zombie. That’d be kind of cool.

He made it a quick shower, because the beating of the water was giving him a headache. When he got out, he put on his sling, a fresh pair of pajama pants, and a Joy Division T shirt. He wasn’t up for real people clothing. But otherwise he was feeling decently rejuvenated after his shower, like it really had been a reset button, and decided to venture out into the house. In the living room, he found Gabe and Frank sat on the couch. They turned when they heard him come down the hall.

“Mikey!” Gabe jumped up and pulled the boy into a bone crushing hug.

“Ow,” Mikey said.

“Shit,” Gabe said, pulling away, “Shit, sorry. I got excited. You’re okay?”

Mikey shrugged, “I’ve been better.”

“Yeah I’ll bet. You look like you lost a fight with a bunch of tiny swordsmen.” Gabe said.

“I think it was with a tree actually.”

“Well, then it looks like you put up a good fight. Trees are tough.”

“Yeah… What’re you guys doing here?” Mikey asked.

“We wanted to check on you,” Gabe said, “And, hey, look. Frankie got you something.”

Frank, who had been silent on the couch as he watched them until then, sheepishly pulled a Dookie CD from his coat pocket and held it out for Mikey. Mikey was sure it was meant as an olive branch.  
“Thanks Frank,” He said, taking the CD and giving Frank a small, grateful smile.

“I didn’t pay for it,” Frank ran his hand through his hair. He said it like it made a difference to Mikey that it was stolen. Frank hadn’t paid for any of the gifts he had bought Mikey in the last six years. Mikey was just happy he was there. He didn’t think he’d ever see him again.

“I appreciate it, man.”

“Yeah, well…”

There was a beat of silence before Gabe said, “Mikey, you wanna sit? I bet you’re pretty tired, right?”

“Oh. I guess,” He said, and slumped on the couch beside Frank. Not very close. He wasn’t sure where they were. Frank was there. He brought him a gift. But they hadn’t talked. Frank looked as uncomfortable as him. Gabe sat in the arm chair, his leg bouncing. It was all tense.

“What happened?” Gabe finally asked. Mikey knew he had been wrestling with that question the whole time, whether or not Mikey would flip if it was brought up. “I mean, I know Pete crashed the car but like…”

“I don’t know,” Mikey said.

“He was obviously drunk,” said Frank.

“He was going so fucking fast, I didn’t- But I think there was something else,” Mikey said.

“Like what?” Gabe asked.

“I think he was on something serious,” Mikey stated, fidgeting with the CD in his hands, “He was having this freak out. He’d just been so all over the place, it was like he was off in some other world all the time. And he was all set on going to New York for some reason. When I tried to talk him out of it he flipped.”

“What d’ya think it was? Meth?” Gabe asked

“Dunno.”

“I don’t wanna sound like a dick here, but I told you. He’s crazy,” Frank said.

Mikey frowned. “Yeah. I should’ve listened to you I guess. I feel like a fucking moron.”

“No, Mikey,” Frank shook his head, “I mean, yeah. But no. You’re not a moron, you didn’t know.”

“I kind of did. Remember when he smashed the car window?”

“Or sophomore year when he ripped that water fountain off the wall?” Gabe added.

“Yeah, I guess you could’ve been smarter. But it’s not your fault. He’s the asshole,” Frank said.

“I wish I’d never met him,” Mikey admitted, “Everything would be so much easier.”

“Yeah, but you’re ok now. Everything’s fine,” Frank said.

“Is it?” Mikey asked. Was everything really fine? Were he and Frank fine?

Frank looked to be asking himself the same thing, and the room fell into another awkward silence.

“I’m gonna go make us some lunch,” Gabe announced, standing up and walking off to the kitchen.

“I think that means we’re supposed to talk,” Frank said.

“Yeah…”

“I’ll start, I guess.”

Frank didn’t actually say anything for a minute. He just sat there chewing his lip. His eyes darted nervously around the room, like he was waiting for the words to just appear. 

“I’m sorry,” He said finally, “I shouldn’t have been such a dick to you. I was upset that you and Pete were hanging out so much. I was leaving, and it felt like, I don’t know, you liked him better. And that when I was gone, maybe you’d just replace him with me.”

“Frank, I would never-”

Frank continued over him. “I know. I know, I overreacted. It was building up I guess. I wanted to be open minded, even though I didn’t like the guy. But you guys just kept getting closer and I felt like I was just this outsider all the sudden. And it’s like, when I go to St. Thomas’s, I know you and Gabe are gonna have to live your own lives without me. We’ll see each other outside of school, but in school you guys will do your own thing. I won’t be there. I know I said it didn’t bother me, but it really does. I don’t want us to stop being friends because we’re too busy for each other. 

“And I still think Pete’s a fucking asshole, but it isn’t my business if you decide you wanna be friends with him, or date him, or whatever. I shouldn’t have given you an ultimatum. When I found out you guys were together, I guess it was just sort of the tipping point. Cause like, you guys were closer than I even knew. I was just already feeling left out, and it was like, all of the sudden there was this whole new thing I wasn’t a part of and-”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Mikey tried.

“No, no, it’s okay Mikey. It wasn’t my business. It just threw me and I handled it badly. I knew that, but I was angry and being a stubborn shit. I knew. When Gerard called and told me what happened, it kinda hit me that I needed to get over it,” He swallowed, his eyes a bit shiny, “I was really scared, ya know? That something had happened to you. And you’re okay, but if you hadn’t been, that would’ve just been  _ it _ . Like. It… I’m really sorry Mikey.”

“I’m sorry too,” Mikey told him, “I shouldn’t have been bailing on you and Gabe.”

“It really wasn’t that bad. I mean, it sucked. But I was overreacting.”

“That doesn’t mean it was okay, Frank. I was being an asshole. I felt like shit when I realized that you were upset. I wasn’t trying to make you feel like an outsider, or left out, or like I wanted to replace you. I love you man, you’re my best friend. You and Gabe, you guys mean fucking everything to me. I was into Pete, and I did care about him, but you guys are way more important to me than him. I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life, dude. I’m sorry I made you feel like that wasn’t true.”

“Are we okay, then?” Frank asked. Mikey knew he wouldn’t cry, but he looked damn close.

“Totally.”

Frank leaned across the couch and tugged Mikey into another painful hug.

“Frank,” He breathed, “Ow.”

“Oh, right,” He said, pulling back.

“I’m glad we’re cool. I was losing my mind over this,” Mikey said.

“Me too. It was fucking awful. Way lonelier than just feeling second to your boyfriend.”

“I’m not actually gay, ya know,” Mikey said, “We never talked about it.”

“You’re not?”  
“No. It was just him, I think.”

“Wow.”

Mikey nodded slightly. “I wanted to talk to you about it with you. I really wanted to. But I was so scared.”

“We can talk now.”

“I think it’s over,” Mikey sighed, “I’m not with him anymore.”

“That’s good though. Not cause he’s a guy by the way, just because he sucks,” Frank said.

“I know.”

“God, I mean, if I see him again I’ll probably fucking kill him.”  
“Get it line. Gerard’s probably been plotting since Friday night. Maybe my mom too,” Mikey told him.

“I think Gabe’ll help too. He was crazy pissed when he found out,” Frank said.

“Everyone’s lining up to defend my honor, huh?” Mikey joked.

“We care about you,” Frank said.

“I know. Thanks,” Mikey said.

Gabe came back in with three plates and three drinks all balanced along his arms.

“Lunch!” He said, “Is everything all good in here?”

“Yeah,” Mikey said and Gabe grinned. Because he was a little divorce kid whose parents had gotten back together.

He put down three grilled cheeses in front of them on the table, a coffee mug in front of Mikey, a can of soda in front of Frank, and a cup of something for himself. Mikey had no idea what. It was citrusy looking, but he didn’t recognize it as anything from the Way’s fridge. Probably some cocktail of juices.

“You know, Mikey, your fridge is totally fucked,” Gabe said, sitting down and digging into his food.

“I don’t know when the last time anyone got groceries was,” Mikey said, starting on his own meal. It tasted like heaven just then.

“Well someone’s gotta do it soon.”

“I’ll let someone know.”

“How long do you have the cast?” Frank asked through his sandwich.

“Doctor said six to eight weeks,” Mikey responded.

“Yeesh,” Frank said, “Is it itchy?”  
“Oh yeah.”

“Did they give you anything for the pain?” Gabe asked.

“No, they said to take tylenol.”

“Man that sucks. You get into a car wreck and you don’t even get any drugs for it?” Gabe said.

“It’s okay,” Mikey shrugged, “I mean, I dunno. I feel like maybe I should cool it with the drugs anyway.”

“What d’ya mean?” Frank asked.  
“I was just sort of, uh… I wasn’t doing super well the last couple months I guess, I needed to take the edge off. And I was needing it a lot. Too much. I think I need to take a break or something,” Mikey admitted. He had thought about it. He had felt like he needed the drugs to be around Pete. He wasn’t around him anymore. And watching Pete spiralling had been somewhat of a wakeup call. He didn’t want to be that. Watching Gerard fall apart all the time, since Mikey was in junior high, he didn’t want to be that either. He didn’t want to need to be high to be okay.

“Shit man,” Frank said.  
“Are you okay?” Gabe asked.

“Yeah,” Mikey nodded, ‘Yeah. I’m better. I just need to keep working on it.”

“Ok. Well I’m proud of you dude. You’re a tough little fucker,” Gabe said earnestly.

“We’re here if you need us,” Frank agreed.

“Thanks. I’m fine though. I’ll be fine.”

Mikey went back to school on Wednesday. That was when his headaches became more bearable. It’d been tough not to take anything to help with it. He wore sunglasses the whole day. The typical hustle and bustle of the building was still pretty awful, but manageable at least. He was sort of shocked that Frank wasn’t there. Frank was absent plenty, but he was really just not there. He never would be. The building felt so empty. He was at St. Thomas’s. That was that. Gabe was still there. He seemed as mournful as Mikey.

Pete wasn’t in school. Figured.

He had to go to all of his classes and collect the work he had missed. He couldn’t do any of it. There wasn’t a lot, the semester had only started two days earlier, but he couldn’t focus on it. Each class was like a frustrating mess of inattentiveness and headaches. At lunch, he and Gabe ate in an empty classroom. The cafeteria seemed like hell. It was hard to eat with the sling. A few people had signed it.

They made small talk. Anything but Frank or the accident. It was okay though. Mikey didn’t want to talk about Frank or the accident. He wanted to keep things light. He hadn’t taken any pills and he really couldn’t handle that stress just then. He felt like everything was so fragile, he worried he’d snap. There was so much just then working against him, he wasn’t about to tempt the fates.

Life seemed to just love fucking with Mikey though, because of course he had to run into Patrick that day who, of course, had something to talk to Mikey about.

Mikey was skipping computer class in the library. The screen made him sick. He was sitting in the corner over a book that he wasn’t reading-the words made him sick too-when the boy approached him.

“Hey Mikey,” He said softly, “How’re you feeling?”

“Pretty shit,” Mikey said.

“Yeah, I figured. I’m sorry about what happened.”

“Wasn’t your fault.”

“No. I’m still sorry though. Can I sit?” He asked.

“Are you gonna talk about Pete?”

“That was the idea, yeah,” Patrick said, “If you don’t wanna talk I’ll get that. He asked me, ya know.”

“No, it’s okay,” Mikey said. He didn’t want to talk about Pete. But at the same time, he felt he had to. He sort of hated Pete. But he also cared about him. He wished he could have stopped. But he had to know what had happened. Those days, Mikey’s needs and wants never aligned.

Patrick settled into a chair next to Mikey. “He’s okay. I don’t know if they told you that.”

“They did.”

“Yeah, he got out with just some cuts and bruises,” Patrick said. It seemed a little cruel, that Pete was the one who got off easy. “He was mostly just freaked. He was in the psychiatric ward for a few days.”

“Psychiatric? Like, a nuthouse?” 

“...Pretty much. They wanted to make sure he evened out. Got back on his meds and all. Didn’t do anything stupid,” Patrick said.

“He takes meds?”

“He’s supposed to.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Mikey asked.

“He’s bipolar. He was manic,” Patrick explained simply.

Not drugs. Mikey had heard bipolar and manic before. But they were kind of vague words in his mind. Just mood swings and crazy shit, he didn’t know what it really entailed.

“What does that mean?”

“It means he was like, really high. Like, he gets super revved up and everything seems great. He’s super happy, confident, creative. He’s getting all this work done. But then he starts doing weird, dangerous stuff. He doesn’t sleep and he gets these weird ideas and he stops thinking about his actions. It’s like he’s just so wired he can’t stop ever, and you can’t keep up with him enough to help. Then he’ll peak, and come back down. He’ll get super depressed. Over and over,” Patrick looked like he had lived through this more than he could count when he talked about it. 

“He’s just always manic or depressed?” Mikey asked, “That sounds fucking exhausting.”

It didn’t even sound human, being so hot and cold. Mikey realized that was a pretty shitty thing to think. Pete was a human.

“No. He’s okay most of the time. Totally normal. Especially if he takes his meds,” Patrick said.

“So then why now?”

“It just happens. It’s manageable usually, but it’s tricky. A lot of shit that doesn’t seem important could do it, ya know. Too much stress or excitement. Not enough sleep. Hell, too much coffee,” He said, “Even if he takes his meds, sometimes it just happens.”

Excitement. Looking back, Mikey was sure all of his weird-manic-behavior started after they had gotten together and that had made Pete pretty excited.

“Do you think it was my fault?”

“No. Absolutely not. Mikey, it isn’t anyone’s fault,” Patrick told him.

“Are you sure?”

“He’s sick. It isn’t your fault he’s sick.”

“But could I have done more?” Mikey pushed.

“Not really. It’s hard to reach him when he’s like that. It probably wouldn’t have helped,” Patrick said, “Even if you had known. Me, Joe, and Andy do our best. His parents too. But you can only do so much.”

“Why do you bother? If it’s just gonna happen again?” Mikey asked.

Patrick shrugged, “He’s my best friend. I love him.”

“Doesn’t it get old?”

“Everyone’s got something.”

“Not that.”

“No, not that. But something. It usually doesn’t get this bad anyway. Not even close. But even if it did, I can’t give up on him,” Patrick said, “I’ll be there for him, even though he’s dealing with a lot.”

“Am I supposed to be there for him like that?”

“Not if you don’t want to be.”

“Is it shitty to say I don’t want to be?” 

“No. I get it. It’s hard. And he was pretty awful to you.”

“Yeah.”

“But he, uh, he wanted me to give you this,” Patrick said, pulling a slip of paper from his pocket and handing it to Mikey, “You don’t owe him anything. You don’t have to answer it, or even read it. But he wanted to explain himself. And apologize. So, yeah.”

Mikey looked down at the paper. It was folded up. It had his name written across it in black pen. ‘Mikey’.

“Is he okay?” Mikey asked. He wasn’t sure what else to say. If Pete was apologizing, he probably wasn’t manic. And Patrick said when he stopped being manic, he got depressed.

“He’s at home. He’s not feeling great. Mostly guilt, I think,” Patrick said.

“Do you think I should forgive him?”

“I have no clue.”

Mikey didn’t either. What Pete did was awful. It really, really was. Mikey wanted to hate it for him. But he couldn’t bring himself to. He almost did. But it was so messy. It was like when they first became friends. He had all these mixed up ideas of Pete. The stranger who smoked him out, the erratic guy who smashed in a car window, and the kid who bought him pizza and played with his hair when he was high. He had thought it was like he was two people. And now that had a word. He was bipolar. But he was still just as hard to put together. Because Mikey still saw all of that in him. And he saw the boy who had stuck with him at Gabe’s party, who had held his hand on New Year’s, who had told Mikey he wanted to take him out on dates. He also saw the boy who had laughed when Mikey and Frank had fought in front of him, and the boy who had driven Mikey into a tree. He didn’t know what was real and what was the disease. And he didn’t know if he could even excuse the disease anyway. If he could deal with it.

Mikey wanted to forgive Pete, really. Because he couldn’t have been all bad. Frank may have thought so. Gabe and Gerard and his mother too by then. But he didn’t buy it. Or he didn’t want to. He probably shouldn’t forgive Pete. He could have died. Maybe he did. The zombie theory hadn’t been completely cleared from Mikey’s mind. But either way, Mikey really didn’t want to believe Pete was bad. If he was sick, it was like he just wasn’t fully aware of what he was doing. And he regretted it. But that didn’t make it okay. There was too much grey.

Patrick got up at some point, giving Mikey a short goodbye. Mikey sat there, staring at the slip of paper, hoping the answer would just crawl off the page. He didn’t know if he should read it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm dumping the last chapters 2day i don't wanna sit on em so eat up


	14. I Can Comfort You

Mikey had been going back and forth on whether or not to read Pete’s letter for days. It wasn’t until Saturday that he did. He had been watching Dawn of the Dead in Gerard’s room with Frank and Gabe that day. Gerard was out with a friend, Bert something, and he had let his brother use the shitty old TV in his room for a horror movie marathon. The three boys were all sprawled across his bed and Frank had a cigarette dangling from his mouth. The slip of paper was in Mikey’s jeans pocket. He had been carrying it around nonstop because he wasn’t sure what he would do with it. He pulled it out while they watched, just folding it over itself, then unfolding it, and folding it again. 

“What’s that?” Frank asked.

“Nothing,” Mikey shrugged. 

Frank, being the kleptomaniac he was, ignored Mikey and plucked the paper from his hand, opening it and squinting at the writing through the dim basement light.

“Frank,” Mikey protested, trying to wrestle it out of his unrelenting friend’s hold, “Please don’t.”

“Hey, wait what is that?” Gabe asked, joining in.

“Is this from Pete?” Frank asked.

“Yeah…” 

“Pete wrote you a letter?” Asked Gabe.

“I guess so. I haven’t read it,” Mikey said.

“Why not?” Gabe asked.

“I don’t know if I want to forgive Pete,” Mikey said, “But if I read it, I’m pretty sure I will.”

“Why would you forgive him?” Frank asked like it was the craziest thing he’d ever heard. It probably was.

“I dunno. I care about him, ya know? I can’t really help it. I want things to be good again. I don’t think that’s smart though.”

“It’s definitely not smart,” Frank said, taking a drag from his cigarette.

“He almost killed you,” Gabe added.

“He was manic. He’s sick,” Mikey said.

“Who cares?” Gabe said, “He still did it.”

“I know. I know. It’s just… he’s got a disease. He didn’t mean to do it, and I don’t even think he really knew what he was doing. So I want to forgive him,” Mikey explained, “But at the same time, what he did was really bad, bipolar or not. And I don’t want to deal with it. And I don’t know how much is excusable.”

“None of it,” Frank stated bluntly.

“I get what you’re saying Mikey,” Gabe said, trying to sound more empathetic than Frank, “I liked the guy too. And maybe it was just some freak accident caused by his bipolar, and he’s tearing himself up about it. But I mean, even if you could forgive him, could you still trust him? What happens when he gets manic again?”

“I don’t know.”

“He’s no good Mikey. I’m plenty fucking biased, but he’s no good,” Frank told him.

“I can’t believe that, Frank. Like, I want to hate him, but I can’t,” Mikey confessed.

“He’s dangerous,” Gabe said.

“He’s a kid.”

“A kid who almost killed you,” Frank said.

“I know. I just-I have a lot of conflicting feelings about this,” Mikey groaned, “Because he’s a kid, and he’s sick. And I really, really care about him even though I don’t want to. I’ve been trying for months to stop, but I can’t. He’s just got this hold on me that I can’t explain. And I know I probably shouldn’t forgive him, but I want to. I want to make it work cause it’s been so hard. Being with him was like, totally bizarre, but like, awesome. I can’t just let it go, ya know? I don’t want to get hurt again. I hate getting hurt, really. It sucks. Big ‘no’ for getting hurt. But for some reason it doesn’t turn me off him. Not fully.” 

“You’ll find someone else,” Frank said.

He knew that was true, but Mikey thought back to his conversation with Patrick. Why Patrick stayed… 

“I just don’t think I’ve given up on him,” Mikey said.

“Huh?” Frank and Gabe asked in near perfect unison.

“I don’t think I’ve given up on him. And I’m not ready to call it quits,” Mikey repeated.

“Oh… You’re sure?” Gabe asked.

“We’re not gonna talk you out of this, are we?” Frank said, breathing in more smoke.

“I don’t think so,” Mikey said, “Sorry.”

“Well, Mikey. You’re a better man that I. But if you really feel like you can give Pete another chance, I’ll support you. Plus more girls for me,” Gabe said decidedly.

Frank frowned, but said, “Me too. I think this might be a really fucking bad idea, Mikey. I’m not gonna act like I want this for you. But I do want you to be happy. You’re gonna do that however you do that. Not my business. I wanna be there for you this time.”

“Thanks, you guys,” Mikey said with a slight smile. He knew his friends would never be crazy about the idea of him forgiving Pete. He understood it. If it had happened to one of them, or to Gerard, he would feel the same. He would want to keep them safe. But things felt more complicated on his side of things. He still hadn’t even forgiven Pete, he was just considering it. He would try, at least. But it felt nice to know his friends would be trying to support him anyway. He knew how badly it could end up. He would be more careful. He knew now. And if Pete wouldn’t get better, Mikey would end it. That would be that. But he had to try. He had promised he would get there. 

“So, how bout you read us that letter then, huh Mikey?” Gabe said.

“Yeah, let’s hear what the prick has to say,” Frank agreed, handing Mikey the paper.

Mikey cleared his throat and did his best to make out the words in the faint light.

_Mikey,_

_Wow, this is really hard to say. I’ve been trying to write this for the last hour but I can’t think of anything good. I don’t think I will, so I’m just writing words as I think them. Sorry I can’t sound better for you. I’m always off key._

_I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was bipolar. I’m sorry I made you scared. I’m sorry I ruined things between you and Frank. I’m sorry about New York. I’m sorry about the crash. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry about everything in between. And I’m sorry I’m writing this, because I don’t think you want to hear from me. Dropping ‘sorry’ on you like this. Like you’re still around. I haven’t been calling, I couldn’t bring myself to. I don’t think you’ll pick up. I don’t know what I’d say anyways. At least this way, there aren't the awkward silences while I’m gathering my thoughts or choked back tears. I want to get across what I’m saying. I want to apologize. A letter is smoother. And the great thing about a letter is that, if you don’t want to read it, you don’t have to. If you don’t want this at any point, you can throw it out. I don’t want to make this worse for you by making you listen to me._

_When we became friends, it was like the most exciting moment in my life. And when I found out it was true, you were like me… When you kissed me, I thought I must have died and gone to heaven. There was no way I deserved something so good. No way I deserved you. You terrified me. You only liked me high, and I knew it was doomed from the start. We were never meant to last. Our tombstones were half engraved, we just didn’t know the date. When things started to look up, I should have realized it wasn’t right. Things are never right when I feel that way, and I can never tell until the worst has already passed. When you’re in the center of a hurricane, everything seems calm, but in the aftermath you can see exactly how much damage you did. I was in the eye. It all felt so clear. I wanted to take you to New York. To see the city, to be with you. I know you didn’t want people to know about us/me, and I thought being somewhere where no one would recognize us would be freeing. It was fucked. I know. I wanted to throw caution to the wind for you, but I’ve got a lousy arm. When you asked if I was high, and told me you were worried, I should have told you. There were a million times where I should have told you. I wish I had told you, so you knew to get out before I hurt you. But I was being selfish. I thought I was okay, and I wanted you to stay. You mean the world to me. No, fuck that. The world doesn't mean shit. You mean more. It couldn't hold a candle to you. I get over attached is what I think I’m saying. I’m sorry._

_When I crashed, all I wanted was to go back. There was a moment where everything was perfect. In my room after you went to my show. Your hand on my spine. I could hear your heartbeat like the bass. I wanted to go back. I didn’t know what had happened to you. It was all pretty disorienting. And I was yelling, but you never returned my calls. I was so scared that you were dead. That I had killed you. We never seemed so far. It was like all the air left my lungs. When I found out you were alive, I think it was the most relief I had ever felt. You’re all I can think about, Mikey. Everything that happened-that I did-that hurt you. Since that night, it’s like this broken record in my mind. I’m so sorry._

_I have so many regrets. There are so many little things I’m sure I don’t remember too. I wish I could turn back time. I wish you were okay. I don’t know what happened to you. They wouldn’t tell me. Just that you were alive, and not majorly injured. But how could you be okay after everything? I think you must hate me, and I can’t blame you. I hate me too. Maybe I give myself too much credit though. I’m just a footnote in your happiness, you’ve already moved on. I’m sorry. I don’t really expect you to accept this apology. I don’t really expect you to ever talk to me again, actually. I can’t blame you for that either. I don’t want you to think I’m writing this to make you come back by the way. I just want you to know that you really were special to me. I really did love you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to write that. And I’m using pen. I could scribble it out. But it’s true. I love you. Because how could I not? You were way too good for me. I’ve had too many chances. And even though I still treated you like shit, I want you to know that you made my life better. Being close to you was like being close to the sun. And I burned up too fast. But I loved every minute of it. Hurting was what made it feel real. Hurting you is my biggest regret._

_There are so many ‘should haves’. I should have listened to you when you told me I was too drunk to drive that night. I should have listened when you told me to slow down. When you told me to pull over. I should have told you, or I should have stayed away from the beginning. When I saw my car wrapped around the tree, it felt heavy. Like this unshifting moment in time. I can go back to so many moments and make them right. I can do something smarter, or faster. But I can’t make this better. I hurt you. I almost killed you. Time doesn’t care about anyone or anything so it’s stuck there. I wanted you to know how awful that thought makes me feel. Not because I want your sympathy. I really hope that isn’t what you take away from this. I’m trying not to make this about me, it’s about you. My skin is a little scraped up but it doesn’t matter. You’re all that matters. But sometimes it’s hard to express that without explaining how you make me feel. And then we’re talking about me again. It’s all you though. You’re my best disaster and I was lucky to know you. I hit the number on you. I know that. I hope you do too._

_I hope this letter doesn’t upset you, Mikey. I’m sorry if it did. I’m trying to put pieces back together, but they’re all so shattered I don’t think I can. If you ever wanted to see me again, I’ll always be here. If not, I’ll stay back. I’d never turn you away, Mikey, but I couldn’t force this on you again. I wish I could beg you to take me back. I want so badly for things to be like they were, but you don’t deserve that, now I just want you to be okay. And I really hope you and Frank are okay. I think it was my fault that you two fell out. My memory is foggy, but it makes sense. I know that you missed him. I hope I didn’t totally ruin that for you._

_Sorry if this doesn’t make much sense. When I start my meds up again, I always feel a little brain dead. This is probably just word salad. There was intent somewhere. I hope you can make it out._

_I’m sorry._

_-Pete_

When Pete’s mother opened the door, she seemed surprised to see Mikey. Much like Pete it seemed, she didn’t expect him to be coming back around. But she let him in regardless.

“He’s in his room,” She told him, “I’m not sure he’ll be much for company.”

Mikey assured her it was okay. He just wanted to see Pete. He headed upstairs to Pete’s room. He felt that familiar tug in his stomach. Truthfully, he was fully ready to shit himself upon seeing Pete. He was so nervous about every single way that it could go wrong. And it could go so very wrong. But he was also… excited? Maybe? To see Pete, and to possibly make things right. His mind wandered as he stood in front of the door. He wondered what this all looked like to Pete’s parents, watching their son spiralling so wildly and dangerously. He wondered what it looked like to his younger siblings. Did they even understand it? It must be awful to watch. Watching Gerard all those years had been. He hated feeling that way, like Gerard’s pain was inconveniencing Mikey, but really, growing up watching someone you love suffer just being was traumatic. It must be worse when you’re too young to even understand it.

He took a deep breath in. When he pushed through the door into the room, he felt his heart in his throat.

The room was the same as the last time he had seen it, just a bit more messy. It was dark, all the curtains were closed. And Pete was lying curled up in his bed under a mass of blankets. All Mikey could see was the bleached tips of a few dreads sticking out. When Mikey took a step in, the floor creaked, and he watched Pete peek out from under his cocoon. His eyes widened after settling on the boy in front of him, looking all the same types of scared that Mikey was feeling. Neither boy spoke. Mikey made his way across the room, glancing down at the mattress as if to ask to sit. Pete shifted to lean up against his headboard, making room for Mikey at his feet. Mikey sat. They still didn’t speak. It felt wrong. Everything was so quiet. The air felt thick. Mikey needed time to figure out what exactly he wanted to get out of this. He wanted it to end with things being okay, of course, but what did that mean? Did he want some big, emotional apology where both boys cried and made big soppy confessions of love? Did he want an explanation? Did he want Pete to promise it would never happen again, and tell Mikey exactly why it wouldn’t? Maybe all of it. He guessed he would know when he was satisfied. He looked at Pete. He looked horrible. Off color and unwashed. He looked like he hadn’t eaten or slept since the accident. He had a scrape here or there, but like Patrick had said, it seemed like he was more affected inside than out.

“Your arm…” Pete finally said in a hushed, hoarse voice. It wasn’t much of a thought.

“Yeah. Broken ulna,” Mikey said, “And a concussion. You?”

“Just some surface level stuff. I have a court date next week. DUI and reckless driving. I don’t think it’ll be too bad.”

“You gonna have to go to jail?”

“I’ll probably just pay a fine. Lose my license too.”

“Could be a lot worse, huh?”

There was a silent beat.

“Shit. Mikey, I’m so sorry,” Pete burst, and Mikey was sure he was about to cry. Like he had said he would, Mikey supposed.

“I know. I read your letter.”

“Really?” Pete sounded shocked.

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t think you would,” He said.

“I wasn’t sure I was gonna. But I’m here, so…”

“Are you-are you okay?” Pete asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay Pete,” Mikey told him. He had been feeling better everyday. That was the thing about getting hurt, was that at some point you healed. Impermanence was strange.

“That’s good, Mikey.” It was pretty clear Pete had no idea what to say.

Silent beat.

“You’re bipolar.”

“Yeah,” Pete nodded, “I’m sorry, I should have told you, I-”

“Why didn’t you?”

Pete frowned. “For a while, I just didn’t think it mattered. We weren’t close, and my meds were working. I don’t go around telling people, so…” Pete explained, “But then I just thought… I was better? Like it’d just gone away and I’d never have to think about it again. It’s like that, ya know. When I’m manic. I don’t know. Everything seems good.”

“How can you not know? You were acting so weird, Pete, how could you not know?”

“That’s the disease. It changes how you think,” Pete said grimly.

“So, it wasn’t you?”

“It was. It just… I wasn’t thinking like me. I guess.”

Silent beat.

“Is it scary?”

“Yes.”

“It was scary to watch.”  
“I’m sorry.”

“Why did it happen?” Mikey asked. He thought it might have been a dumb question.

“The mania?” Mikey nodded. “I don’t know. Probably a lot of little things,” Pete said.

“You were taking your meds though?”

“Yeah,” He said.

“Why do you take them if they don’t work?” Mikey asked.

“They usually do. It’s safer. I’d rather have a little bit of a battle plan, I guess,” Pete told him.

Beat.

“You know, Pete, I really… want things between us to be okay…”  
“You do?” Pete looked beyond surprised.

“I do. I don’t trust you though,” Mikey told him. That was what he had figured out. He still cared about Pete, probably more than he should have. He couldn’t help it. Pete was just so… Pete. For better or for worse. He was loud and bubbly, and he could be thoughtful, and he cared about Mikey. Even though it could get so intense that it scared him, it also drove him a little wild. It wasn’t a question in his mind anymore of if he could still care for Pete. He could. He was completely taken. It was a question of if he could trust him. How, if his meds weren’t one hundred percent effective, could Mikey believe that nothing like the accident would ever happen again? Because he had worked his head around the fact that Pete had a disease that made him do strange, risky, and undesirable things. He knew his intentions hadn’t been to hurt Mikey. But if he couldn’t-or wouldn’t-take measures to stop himself from going there again, Mikey didn’t want to be around him. He trusted Pete as far as he could throw him.

“I want to work things out,” He continued, “I know things between us were always a little fucked, but I want to get it right. I think if we got it right… it might be worth it. But I don’t trust you. And if you can’t give me a reason to trust you, I’m not going to put myself through this. I don’t want to do this again. So give me a reason to trust you Pete, and I will.”

“Are you… You’re giving me another chance?” Pete asked hesitantly. He was looking up at Mikey with what might have been the widest eyes he had ever seen.

“Can you promise me you won’t do this to me again?”

“I… I can try Mikey,” Pete said.

“Try?”

“I want to tell you I’ll never do it again, really. The idea that I did it once makes me feel fucking sick,” Pete told him, eyes welling up, “But I don’t know, it’s so hard to control. I try, I don’t know what else there is to do.”  
“Do you have a plan?” Mikey asked.

“Y-yeah. When I was in the hospital, they had me make a plan,” Pete nodded.

“What is it?”

“I stay on my meds. I don’t drink coffee, no drugs or alcohol. I have a consistent sleep and exercise schedule. I just, you know, I have to be really careful. And, they have me keeping a journal. And I do, like, thought exercises. Being mindful of the way I’m thinking and acting. And my parents, my friends, they all help me. Take it a day at a time. If I think I’m slipping again, I’m supposed to go see my doctor,” Pete explained, “But it’s-it isn’t a guarantee. There is no guarantee, Mikey. I wish there was-so fucking badly-but there isn’t.”

“With a plan though, it’s easier to catch, isn’t it? If it does happen, it might not get as bad? Cause there’s no guarantee for anyone. Not really. I could wake up tomorrow and lose it, right?” Mikey said.

“That’s-yeah. That’s true,” Pete said. His voice was getting rougher. Mikey could tell he was holding back tears.

“So, you have a plan. You’re going to get better?” Mikey asked.

He looked Pete in the eyes. He knew realistically, it was impossible to say. But like he had said, that was true about anything. Everything was so up in the air, no one knew anything. Maybe Pete was more risky than another person, but the more prepared and cautious Pete was, the more Mikey trusted that he would be okay with him. When Pete sounded unsure of himself and his recovery, it was harder to believe him. He wasn’t asking him to stop being bipolar, he was asking him to promise Mikey that he was doing everything he possibly could to stay leveled. That Mikey would be safe.

“I’m going to get better,” Pete agreed, looking back at Mikey with determination, “I promise Mikey, I’m going to get better.”

“Good,” Mikey nodded.

Pete gave him a weak smile, and Mikey gave him one back.

Beat.

“Can I cry a little?” Pete asked with a sniff.

“Yeah, you can cry Pete.”

And then the boy let loose. It was rather subdued, but still emotionally charged. It was just crying. Tears, shallow breaths, runny nose, and contorted face. Mikey scooted to sit beside Pete against the headboard. He leaned against the crying boy and pulled him to his chest.

“No, I’m not-” Pete choked, “You don’t need to comfort me.”

“Maybe I need comforting,” Mikey said.

He wasn’t like Pete. He wasn’t going to cry. He couldn’t. But the whole ordeal was pretty draining. It wasn’t over. He and Pete still weren’t anywhere near normal. But they had gotten somewhere. Past the preliminary hearing. And Mikey was exhausted. He wanted to pretend it was over and just seek shelter in the other boy. He wanted comfort. He knew Pete did too, even if he said he didn’t. Pete looked so fragile, and he might have wanted to put up a strong front, but Mikey wasn’t sold. He figured it out, Pete didn’t want Mikey to pity him. He didn’t want Mikey to feel obligated to forgive him because he was a wreck. But as Pete didn’t want Mikey to hurt, Mikey didn’t want Pete to. He wasn’t feeling obligated, he wanted to comfort Pete. And he wanted Pete to comfort him. They were both fucked up. They could pretend as if it was over and they were on equal footing, just in that moment, and be okay.

“I can comfort you, Mikeyway,” Pete told him shakily.

“Thank you.”

So they curled up together, as if it were over.


	15. Like, Boyfriends

“You ready Mikey?”

Mikey was not ready.

As he looked out across the poorly lit basement, he felt frozen. There were probably only sixty or so people. It wasn’t like a basement could fit much more. And they were all decent people, as far as Mikey knew. Ray had vouched for the guy who’s place it was, said he kept good company. So even if they sucked, it couldn’t be that bad, right? Maybe they’d be too drunk to even care. But it was their first show ever and they had no idea what they were doing. Sure, maybe it was just some dumb basement party full of fucked college students with decent music taste. But Mikey was ready to piss himself, he was so freaked. Not ready.

He had known that it would happen. From day one he had said he couldn’t perform. But goddamn Pete had coaxed him into joining a band and he had committed. He was in it. He wasn’t about to back out. He wasn’t a fucking wimp. No sir.

“Mikeyway, you’ll be totally awesome,” Pete had assured him earlier that night, “Andy says you guys sound great!”

He didn’t know if he believed that. If he fucked up, it would ruin the whole show. Plus, Mikey still had a broken arm. And a concussion. No way that could be good for playing. He wasn’t even supposed to be there. He told his mom he and Gerard were going to an art show. He wasn’t allowed to go to events with the head injury. But it was their first gig, he had to be there. And if he fucked it up it would be humiliating. And what if no one ever wanted to see them again and it was all his fault? They had put so much work into the band and all for nothing. Sure, that was most bands, but at least most bands got a few shows in before calling it quits. Ray had finally gotten them a gig, and with Andy offering to fill in on drums that night, it became real. And it was going to be awful.

But he was in way too far to turn back, so he nodded to his brother, who gave him a smirk. 

Andy counted them in and Mikey let his fingers take over. His brain was in no condition to be conscious through the set. He just had to let it all play out. His hands knew their job, all his parts, they’d been over them a hundred times. But he felt stiff, like at any moment he would slide his fingers a little off and his bass would screech or click or some other awful sound. Or no sound at all. His arm hurt like hell as he plucked at the strings. He wished he was drunk or high or _anything_ . He tried to shake the thought off. He was okay. He was _fine_. No drugs, no drinking, Mikey was fine. It wasn’t going badly. They were only about half ways into the first song, but the others sounded amazing, and Mikey hoped he could just melt into them. He just played his piece in their music. Just adding on. He had to take the pressure off. He was just one piece in their machine. And after a while, he thought it might have been working. He found his rhythm, and just like that, he was in it. Back in the garage, playing with just his friends, letting his fingers race up and down the frets and strings and ignoring the shooting pain in his forearm.

After a while, he was feeling so uninhibited he was even able to move around the makeshift stage. He had kept his feet firmly planted before, standing rigid, but he started making small moves. Nothing crazy like Frank, who was shooting around the setup like a fucking torpedo. But he bobbed his head up and down, and paced a bit, moved with the beat. It took his mind off of things even more. It was just movement. Legs back and forth, hands up and down. 

It actually became kind of fucking exhilarating. He was awesome, like Pete said. They all were. It was coming together. Mikey was eating his words just then. Nothing awful about that night. And the crowd seemed to agree, much to Mikey’s surprise and delight. They were getting into it, which made Mikey feel completely blown away. He was the in band entertaining the crowd for once. And it was nice to be on that side of things. He loved watching the kids all gathered around them, jumping and down with them like they were a part of it. Like even just in that moment, it mattered that they were up there.

When it was over, Mikey felt like he had run a marathon. He was sweaty and out of breath, a lot of which he figured was more from anxiety than from the strenuous workout of restrained dancing. Frank was panting like a dog and looked like he had been through a sprinkler. The rest of the band was pretty gross too. It sort of seemed perfect though. They were real musicians, going all out for a show. They had performed as a band together.

There was a moment of hugs and congratulations as they came off of the ‘stage’ and retired to an otherwise unoccupied corner of the basement for the rest of the night.

“God, we fucking ruled!” Gerard grinned.

“I bet we’ll be selling out stadiums by next year,” Frank said.

“We’ll have to put out an album before that,” Ray said.

“No way,” Frank shook his head, “We’ll be big shots before we can even get an album out.”

“How?” Ray asked.

“Frank, your fingers are bleeding,” Mikey pointed out before Frank could answer Ray. He was looking down at Frank’s red smeared fingertips. Torn from the aggressive manner he had played that night. Totally ripped them up on the strings.

“Shit, that’s rad!” Frank said happily. 

“It’s probably all over your fretboard too,” Gerard said.

“That’s so fucking cool.”

Around that time, the others found them. Gabe wrapped Frank and Mikey up into a bearhug, reigniting the pain in Mikey’s arm. Patrick, Joe, and Pete all went to commend Andy. He had been absolutely brilliant. It sucked he already had Fall Out Boy, Mikey thought. If they had him as their permanent drummer, they’d be pretty much unstoppable.

“You guys rocked!” Gabe said.

“Right? I was telling the guys, we’re totally gonna be famous!” Frank exclaimed.

“And then you’ll get chicks!”

“God, I’m so ready. I feel like I haven’t been laid in forever.”

“How long’s it been, Frankie?” Gerard asked.

“Too long. I’m fucking dying out here.”

“Haven’t you been getting any touch from the Catholic boys?” Gabe asked and Frank flipped him off.

“Mikey’s the one who likes that,” He said.  
“I don’t like Catholic boys,” Mikey denied.

“What if Pete was Catholic?” Gabe said.

“If Pete was Catholic that’d only be one boy, not boys plural.”

“So you’d be into Catholic _boy_?” Gabe clarified.

“What are we talking about?” Ray piped in, looking lost. Shit. Mikey had never told him.

“Oh,” He muttered, blush creeping up his cheeks, “Me and Pete just sorta… have a thing.”

“Oh. Cool,” Ray said. It was a simple response. Mikey honestly appreciated it.

“Can you believe, the one guy he’s gay for’s gotta be the guy who almost killed him?” Gerard said. He had been as wary of Pete as Mikey had expected him to be after the crash. Like Gabe and Frank, he tried to let Mikey make his own decisions. He was a big boy and all. But no one was as warmed up to Pete as Mikey would have liked just yet. It’d take time. He knew. It was all quite a lot.

“I was kinda surprised you two still hung out,” Ray admitted, “When you said he’d be here I was totally thrown.”

“We’re working through it,” Mikey said.

“Me and Gabe are supporting him. We’re good like that,” Frank added. Frank had really been enjoying being the mature and supportive friend. 

“You’ve got a complex,” Mikey said.

“A good person complex?” Frank asked.

“No.”

“Whatever. You’re just jealous of what a good friend I am.”

At some point, the two groups merged and all of Pete’s friends were talking to Mikey’s friends. Mikey hadn’t seen Pete all night, so when he sidled up beside him, Mikey’s chest got all tight. He felt like he was in middle school on his first date with his crush. The way things between him and Pete had been going, everything was so hesitant and new. Like it was their first times ever being with someone. It made Mikey feel shy. It made Pete shy too, which was just strange. And a bit endearing. Especially in contrast with Pete’s previous manic grandiosity. Mikey hadn’t found that quite so charming.

Pete pulled Mikey off to the side pretty quickly into the big group mingle.

“You wanna go somewhere a little less crowded?” He asked. 

He looked nervous. It was a new look for Pete. But ever since they had made up, he had been like this puppy, eager to please Mikey and terrified to bother him. It had been weird. They were still somewhat unfamiliar with the new boundaries of their relationship. How close were they then? Pete mostly let Mikey take the lead.

“Definitely,” Mikey said.

They ended up tucked away in some tiny room by the stairs. Mikey wasn’t sure if it was a bedroom or a storage room with a bed. It was full of boxes. Probably belonged to the college guy who was hosting. They didn’t turn on the lights, Mikey said he might throw up if they did. For the concussed boy, the dark quiet was a nice breather from the party on the other side of the door.

“You did amazing,” Pete told him as they sat together on the bed.

“I was barely even thinking about it,” Mikey said.

“You looked like a pro,” Pete said with a grin that Mikey could faintly make out.

“You really liked it?” He asked.

“I loved it. You have no idea how fucking proud I felt watching you,” Pete said.

“You’re a fucking dope,” Mikey laughed.

“Totally. You got me whipped, Mikeyway,” He admitted. Mikey felt his insides flip… 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You, uhm… I am too,” Mikey fumbled. It wasn’t what he meant to say just then… 

“What?”

Mikey knew he should say it. Really say it. Pete had already said it. It was in a letter, but he said it. Mikey hadn’t thought of it before, just as a possibility. But just then, it was there. ‘You got me whipped’. In that moment, Mikey knew he felt it. He loved Pete. It was weird. It was weird loving a guy. And it was weird loving Pete. It had been twenty-two days since the accident. Thirteen since he and Pete had made up. It wasn’t much time for things to get better. They weren’t totally better. No where close. But it was going well. Very well. And it wasn’t like the feelings hadn’t been building since before then. Mikey had been falling for ages if he were to look back on it. And even if he and Pete weren’t perfect, he had to say it. He wanted to.

“I love you,” He said, “...Yeah.”

Pete blinked. “You do?” He asked, the biggest smile growing on his face that Mikey might have ever seen.

“I do.”

“I love you too, Mikeyway,” Pete returned.

“Well that works out nicely then, huh?” He breathed. He felt like his stomach was being twisted in loops.

“The nicest.”

Pete leaned in, stopping close enough for Mikey to feel his breath on his lips. Mikey leaned the rest of the way, catching the other boy’s lips between his. It was a soft kiss. It was short too. But sweet. It made Mikey’s head spin.

He was in love. And it made him want to be even closer to Pete.

“I think… we still need to work on things, but I think… I mean we were never officially together, were we?” Mikey stuttered, “I think, if we both love each other, we could try it?”  
“You want to be official?” Pete asked, and the smile actually grew bigger.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”

“Like, boyfriends?”  
“Like boyfriends.”

“If you want that then-then I’m all out for you Mikey. You have no clue how much I want to be your boyfriend,” Pete said, timidly reaching to curl his hand around Mikey’s.

“How much?” Mikey asked, giving Pete his hand.

“Since we fucking met, I was like, obsessed. Ya know, I had no idea how to talk to you, you were so cool and quiet. I was such a pussy. And I would always be trying to start conversations with you but you never gave me the time of day. It was pathetic, the guys were always giving me shit for it.”

“Your friends know?”

“They’ve known forever. Junior year, I was constantly mooning over you to them. When we were hanging out more this fall-you read my letter… It was junior year times ten. They actually started making bets about how long it’d take me to bring you up in a conversation. And then we were hooking up, I thought I’d explode. It was like you were just out of my reach, I was going crazy. All I could think about was having you all to myself. I wanted to ask you out so bad, but I knew you would have said no. You would’ve. But shit, I was dying to be with you. It was like every night I’d dream about it. Really.”

“Wow,” Mikey said.

“Is that weird?”

“Maybe,” Mikey shrugged, “But you’re a little weird. I like it.”

“You do?”

“Most of the time. Not when it’s like… But yes, I like it.”

Pete grinned again. It made Mikey’s chest warm and bubbly. It made him feel pretty sure he wasn’t a zombie. A zombie couldn’t feel that much.

“I love you,” Pete said, kissing Mikey. “I can’t believe you love me too,” He added, pulling back.

“Can’t help it,” Mikey said.

“Always thought I was just a little fun for you, ya know?”

“I wanted you to be at first. It didn’t work. I got a boyfriend out of it, at least.”

“Say ‘boyfriend’ again?” Pete looked a bit smitten at the word.

“Boyfriend.”

“We’re boyfriends,” Pete stated.

“Mhm,” Mikey agreed.

“I’m your boyfriend.”  
“And I’m yours.”

“I love that.”

Mikey didn’t know how to respond to that in words, so he just did the first impulse that came across him. He leaned in and kissed Pete. He loved it too. Things were so fucked up sometimes. But they were getting better. Pete was evened out and taking his meds, Mikey was sober, his band had just played their first fucking gig, and they were boyfriends. Life had been messy, but it was kind of fucking awesome just then. Mikey was just… happy. Everything was good. He ignored his arm and his headache and the people on the other side of the door because they were all so unimportant. He ignored his friends and his brother, who all were reluctant to move on from Pete’s past. And he got that, really. He knew they meant well. They wanted what was best for him, to keep him safe. But just then, he didn’t want doubts about whether or not what he was doing was right. He was happy and in love and stone cold sober with Pete. For the first time in months he could say that. 

He liked it a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow it's over! if you liked it thanks if it sucked sorry lol
> 
> xxx


End file.
